


Far Too Young To Die

by fatalambrosia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: (Almost redemption? Idk lol), Angst, Based On A Panic! At The Disco Song, Bonding, Character Death, Dark Harry Potter, Dark Hermione Granger, Harry Potter Needs a Hug, Like, M/M, Master of Death Harry Potter, Mixed feelings about Dumbledore and Snape so please beware, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Redemption, Slow Burn, Time Travel, the story itself is slow too so prepare for a long journey, very slow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25764361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fatalambrosia/pseuds/fatalambrosia
Summary: After watching Sirius die and learning about the prophecy that Dumbledore has been hiding for years, Harry snaps.Summer passes by and Harry begins to change as he struggles to figure out his own identity, destiny, and desires. But as Dumbledore introduces him to the origin of Lord Voldemort, something in Harry attaches itself to his own twisted perception of Tom Riddle, an idea of Tom Riddle that the entire wizarding world would tell him is wrong. Yet as Dumbledore discusses the worst of Lord Voldemort, Harry focuses on the best of Tom Riddle.Of course only Harry would feel bad for Tom Riddle.And of course, only Harry would desperately feel the need to go back and help Riddle when Dumbledore failed him.He could practically hear Hermione's warning in his ear: "Awful things happen to wizards who meddle with time."
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 98
Kudos: 452





	1. A Cursed Crown

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This is my first time posting here on Ao3! I'm super excited to share this story with all of you, it's been on my mind for weeks! Lol. Anyways! Just a few notes for you guys! 
> 
> 1\. I have not read the books in a while. It's been years and I'm planning on reading them in pdf form since my mom made me throw out my copies lol (I still shed a small, dramatic tear each time I walk by my bookcase tbh). Because of this, this story might skip some of the original content or not reference it well. I'm so sorry about this! But thank god for the powers of fanfiction, right? Not everything has to completely mirror canon haha...
> 
> 2\. Like I said, this is my first time posting on here! :) Any feedback is welcome! I'm not entirely sure what each chapter is going to entail but I do have an ending in mind and minor points to get to as well. 
> 
> 3\. I do plan on this fic to be a long one! I also tagged it as a slowburn as a warning lmao. But I definitely want it to be over 100k words. 
> 
> And finally, I wanna say a special thanks to you! It makes me happy to write and it makes me even happier to post my work so others can enjoy it! I'll definitely reply to comments 
> 
> my tumblr is perseusjackson1 if you ever wanna reach me there too!

Harry remembers every little detail yet also nothing about Sirius’ death and the aftermath. 

He remembers Sirius’ panicked eyes rolling to the back of his head but Harry doesn’t remember screaming. Harry remembers Bellatrix’s wicked smirk after she was tortured under the golden child’s wand and mocked him; but Harry doesn’t remember the looks of horror his friends gave him. Harry remembers feeling unbearable pain and rage as he destroyed Dumbledore’s office to mirror the aftermath of a bitter battle scene; but Harry doesn’t remember the look of disappointment Dumbledore had given him as Harry turned his back to the supposedly ‘greater good’. 

Harry remembers snapping but Harry doesn’t remember the exact moment he had changed. 

Maybe it had been the moment Sirius’ body disappeared into the Veil to never be seen again and ending any opportunity for redemption for the House of Black. Or maybe it had been the moment Dumbledore informed Harry of a fate that he had never wanted. A crown cursed to surround Harry with death, and glory that easily turned into hate from the public eye. Or maybe it had been the moment Vernon’s fist had crashed down onto the table and mouth began to spew words that set Harry’s temper aflame for the rest of the summer. 

Or maybe it had been the continuous nightmares and day hallucinations of Sirius’ eyes and laugh, following Harry as if Sirius were God. 

There were too many cases where Harry could’ve changed that it’s hard to pinpoint a singular one. 

There were too many deaths that made the crown on Harry’s head so heavy that he felt like his neck would break at any moment. 

Yet here Harry was, learning about Voldemort’s past. A responsibility and duty to the world that Harry was required to fulfill as Fate’s favorite toy. A new year, standing in Dumbledore’s office as the tense silence surrounded them both with only a pensieve in front of them. 

“Lemon drop?” Dumbledore offered.

“No thanks,” Harry said, eyes focused on only the pensieve, preparing himself to be dragged into this war even more. 

Watching Harry, Dumbledore sighed and set his lemon drop down. Thinking to himself, Dumbledore began to reconsider his actions and where they had led him. A part of Dumbledore was worried for Harry and the heavy weight on the young man’s shoulders. With a destiny where Death ruled and a loss of innocence at such a young age with the death of the Potter parents, that part of Dumbledore wished to go find Tom himself and end this madness like he had done with Gellert. But the other part of Dumbledore, the one that devoted itself to the greater good and knew well enough to not mess with fate, knew that only Harry could ensure a good life for himself, his loved ones, and the entire world by following Fate’s plan. This part of Dumbledore that was watching the way Harry’s fists were clenched at his sides and the way Harry’s eyes were watering from glaring harshly knew there was nothing he could do to separate Harry from his already decided future. 

Despite his old age and years of wisdom and experience...he had failed at helping the people he cared about again. 

He had failed to help another lost boy in a world where evil attempted to reign with destruction. 

“...Sir?” Harry said, drawing the man out from his thoughts and back to reality. 

“Ah yes,” The Headmaster walked back to Harry, holding his hand pressed against his own back in an attempt to conceal it from Harry’s sight. Harry had noticed of course, aware of every movement around him, but decided to not say anything. After all, Dumbledore didn’t wanna show him obviously. And who was Harry to not let the Professor enjoy his secrets anymore? He had been for years already anyways…no point in stopping him. Before jumping in, Dumbledore paused and looked at Harry with a serious face. “And another reminder, my boy. The child you are about to see...he is not Voldemort yet. Call him Tom, my boy.” 

Another moment of awkward silence (on Harry’s part, of course) passed as Dumbledore drew them both into another memory where Harry found himself in front of a gray building that looked eerily familiar to a prison.

Wool’s Orphanage. 

The young Albus Dumbledore walked into it, not aware of the important person he was going to meet. A person that Harry was both dreading to see and also curious to learn about. Following the past professor, Harry’s eyes immediately found Riddle, who was staring out at the window as if he had nothing better to do. Ignoring the conversation Cole was having with Dumbledore, Harry kept watch of the eleven year old boy sitting in a grey room with almost nothing personal decorating it. A bed. Pillow. Wardrobe. The bare necessities. It was familiar. He stared at the child (or should he call him Voldemort and ignore Dumbledore?) and continued to observe the Orphanage. It was cold, it was small, and it was filled to the brim with kids that stayed far away from the dark lord’s room. A part of Harry almost wanted to feel pity for him, remembering the way he had once desperately tried to relate to other kids and prove his worth, only for Dudley to ruin everything enthusiastically with a big fat grin on his face in grade school. 

But something was different. While Harry had been distraught over isolation as a child, Riddle seemed unbothered. Then, Harry couldn’t help but notice the wary glances passing children sent to Riddle’s room. Had Riddle always showed psychopathic tendencies as a child? Is that why no one wanted to be around him? 

“Hello Tom,” Past Dumbledore greeted and smiled when Riddle met his eyes with a long stare. “My name is Professor Dumbledore and I-” 

“Professor? Is that some sort of doctor?” Riddle interrupted him quickly. The other Dumbledore looked taken back at Riddle’s lack of respect but cast it aside and hid his surprise quickly with a calm face and small smile. The professor opened his mouth again but Riddle continued. “What do you want? Did she send you here?” 

“No, Tom-” 

“I don’t believe you! Tell me the truth!” Riddle glared and Dumbledore still smiled. Slowly he brought out a letter. Harry immediately knew what it was without giving it a second glance. Riddle’s Hogwarts letter. The boy-who-lived observed Riddle’s face change from hostile to slightly curious as Dumbledore extended the letter, acting as if it was a peace treaty. Riddle’s gaze changed course frequently, from the letter, to Dumbledore, to his window, as if his mind was still trying to understand this strange situation as real. And one thing that Harry was certain of? While Riddle didn’t want to trust Dumbledore, he was dying to know why this strange man was in here and requesting him specifically. Riddle had probably craved for answers his entire life and here Professor Dumbledore was, introducing Riddle to infinite opportunities yet presenting him to a world where Riddle was infamously destined to obsess over and ruin. 

As the Headmaster( or whatever Dumbledore was in this time, Harry didn’t really know) explained Hogwarts, Riddle’s eyes widened and he gleefully whispered, “I knew I was special.” 

“What can you do?” Dumbledore asked innocently with an encouraging smile and Riddle spilled. 

“I can do many things. I can make things move without even lifting a hand! Animals listen to me! And,” Riddle had a crazy look in his eye, “I can make bad things happen to people. Hurt them.” 

The other Dumbledore’s smile had slowly disappeared as Riddle admitted to his abilities. Harry glanced at the one next to him to find the same expression, as if they were copying each other. As if they were in a mirror. Harry looked back at the boy who was shaking in happiness yet wore a face that no eleven year old should have. 

He looked like a monster, even more than Voldemort did. And Voldemort didn’t even have a fucking nose. Harry didn't know if he should be impressed or terrified of the eleven year old boy who already showed he was pleased with power and control the world had already promised him. 

“Are you a wizard too?” Riddle asked.

“Yes, I am.” 

“Prove it!” Riddle sneered and Harry raised an eyebrow. Did everyone have to prove themselves to him? The other Dumbledore did the same as Harry but Harry’s Headmaster stayed quiet. 

“If you are accepting-” 

“Of course I am!” 

“-then you will call me Professor or sir.” 

Suddenly someone flipped a switch. Riddle completely changed character. Gone was the sneering, demanding boy. In his place was a patient, respectful boy who stared at Dumbledore and apologized in a polite tone. Silence took over the room for a split second. Then Riddle screamed. 

The room felt warm as Dumbledore set fire to the wardrobe. 

Harry watched speechless as Riddle reached at Dumbledore, heart pounding, worried that Riddle was going to harm the Professor when he felt a hand on his chest holding him back. Looking down, he noticed how heavy he was breathing, the anxiety and anger coursing through his veins, and wand at the ready in his clutch, twitching to curse Riddle. Harry looked up to meet Dumbledore’s eyes that lacked their twinkle as he put his hand on Harry’s shoulder. 

“I thought,” Harry stopped, embarrassed. He looked back at the scene they were in and noticed the wardrobe wasn’t lit up, the room was slowly decreasing in temperature once more, and Riddle had opened the wardrobe to reveal a box. He had forgotten it was a memory…

Riddle turned to Dumbledore quickly with wide eyes that were hyper focused on the wand as he pointed. “Where do I get one?” His voice was shaking slightly (was he excited? In awe? Jealous? Harry couldn’t pick one), eyes shining almost like an addict stumbling across its toxic desire, and greedy hands that were inching closer to the old man. Despite this, Dumbledore wasn’t bothered by Tom as his eyes were set on the wardrobe. 

“I do believe something is trying to come out of the box, Mr. Riddle.”

And with those words, something changed in Riddle that made him drop his mask and show his first true weakness: fear. 

Normally, others would view Riddle as trying to manipulate Dumbledore into not showing what was in the wardrobe. Or attempting to trick the man into believing that Riddle was a sane human being. But Harry? He saw Hermione. That little first year outcast that was so scared to be rejected that she did everything she could to show she was worthy. By keeping her head in a book in order to drown in infinite knowledge and almost killing herself mentally for a world that she desperately had been wishing to belong in (and still does. How else would her third year schedule be explained? God, she really was crazy. Harry would have to talk to her again after this). Looking at Riddle with his frightened expression reminded Harry of the bright witch he was fond of. 

“We could have been killed,” she had said. “Or worse- expelled.” 

And although Harry knew there were worse things than death, apparently both Riddle and Hermione agreed on one thing. 

Being not wanted was worse. 

And having observed the Orphanage and seen the way the children treated Riddle like a radiation site, Harry gathered that Riddle had a fear of rejection because that’s what he had known for his entire life. Riddle had always been alone. 

“Open it,” Dumbledore said. Riddle gave him a cold calculating look, acting as if he were in control of the situation and debating if he’d let Dumbledore into a big secret. Opening the box, Harry saw a bunch of random crap. The items stopped shaking and Dumbledore’s gaze stayed on them for a while before looking up at Tom with a calm look yet his cautious eyes. 

“There are many things not tolerated at Hogwarts, my boy,” Dumbledore began. Riddle tensed up. “And stealing is one of them. You will return these belongings to their rightful owners. If you do not do so, I will know.” 

There was no tricking Dumbledore apparently. 

While Harry would’ve been red under Dumbledore’s gaze (especially at eleven years old), Riddle did the opposite as he met Dumbledore’s eyes with a confident nod yet spoke toneless words: “Yes, sir.” 

This tension between Dumbledore and the boy continued. Dumbledore spoke, the majority of it warning Tom and almost scolding him with Tom glaring harshly at Dumbledore’s back at any chance he had. And just as Dumbledore was going to leave, Riddle admitted something that startled Harry. 

“I can speak to snakes. Is that normal?” Riddle looked into Dumbledore’s eyes, unafraid. The man stared back. “It is unusual,” He started. “But not unheard of.” 

And with that, Dumbledore left and Harry was brought back to his own time, all three leaving Riddle staring out his window, watching the old man leave, clutching his letter. 

Harry sat down as his mind registered the new information Dumbledore had presented him with. He heard Fawke’s soft coos, an attempt to comfort Harry, yet the boy was silent and lost in his own mind. 

“I’m sure you noticed-” The Headmaster began yet was stopped upon looking at Harry’s serious face. “Perhaps..it would be best if you got some good night’s sleep.” 

_Well that’s not really an option for me, is it, sir?_ Harry thought yet he bit his lip before the words came out of his mouth. He got up to leave yet stopped when he noticed Dumbledore was holding himself back too. “What is it, sir?” 

“The young Tom Riddle liked to collect trophies,” Dumbledore replied, not meeting Harry’s eyes but staring at Harry’s scar. He winced as the scar began to hurt, as if it were reacting to Dumbledore. “Remember this, Harry.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Now, it truly is late, my boy. I will see you soon.” 

And with those words, Harry left only to have dreams dedicating themselves to an eleven year old boy staring out his window with a letter held in a tight grip and a dedicated duty to his own destiny. 

Could Harry even call them dreams? They were more like bloody nightmares.


	2. The Silence In Between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Room of Requirement is used and Harry spends time with Luna as they bond over losing someone special. 
> 
> Also, did someone say Draco Malfoy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts are in italics! :)

Harry woke up the next morning feeling like his head was going to explode and eyes burning. While he felt much better in comparison to the nights Voldemort literally raped his mind, Harry felt like he could scream right now from the sheer exhaustion seeping into his bones. His eyelids felt heavy and he knew that if he dared stand up, he would fall to the ground without a word. With one look at him, Ron’s eyes widened and reached out to his friend. 

“You okay, Harry?” 

Harry grunted and pulled the covers over his head. He heard Ron shuffle and felt the bed dip as Ron sat next to him. 

“Harry.” Another grunt. “C’mon mate, we have McGonagall for the first class of the day.” 

Could Harry have a break for once in his life? As he continued to ignore the red head, Harry suddenly perked up when Ron started to promise treacle tarts. Getting up, taking a quick shower, ignoring Dean and Seamus, and after grabbing his wand, Ron wrapped an arm around Harry’s shoulder, and they walked to the Great Hall to find Hermione sitting there already with her face in a book. He sat down and watched Ron serve himself a plateful of different delicacies. Harry grabbed an apple and Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Just an apple again, Harry?” 

“Well it gets the job done, doesn’t it, Mione?” Harry responded with a grin as he bit into the apple. Hermione rolled her eyes before diving into her breakfast as well. With Ron and Hermione bickering about class or something, Harry was surprised when Ginny sat next to him. She smiled at him sweetly and Harry smiled back awkwardly before noticing some guy glaring at him across from the Ravenclaw table. He pointed at Harry, then at Ginny, then he flipped Harry off. 

Harry choked from holding back laughter. “Er, Ginny, I think your boyfriend wants some attention.” 

Ginny frowned and looked at who Harry was glancing at and she burst out laughing. He just shook his head. Poor guy. 

“Is he another one of your victims you’ve been leading on?” Luna Lovegood said as she came behind Harry and Ginny. Ginny shook her head. 

“No, he’s just some kid I flirted with a little on the train. Nothing interesting, he spent the entire train ride talking about himself!” 

“Who were you flirting with?!” Ron stopped eating, looking around the student body. The girls laughed at him until he gave up and gave Ginny a warning look. “You better not keep this up or I’ll tell Mum and Dad!” 

“You tell them and I’ll tell them the truth about what happened to the vase Dad made when he took muggle ceramics classes!” 

With that Ron quickly shut up as he bit into his chicken leg and began muttering to himself. All Harry heard was “stupid little sister” and “evil guys” before he decided it wasn’t anything important. He turned and looked at Luna. 

“Hello Luna.” 

“Hello Harry,” Luna said softly and gave Harry a smile. “The Dadderblimps were mean to you before but they’re not here now.” She reached into her large pockets of a new baby blue crochet jacket and handed Harry a small cup of pudding. “Have this, it’ll make you feel better.” 

“Thanks?” Harry mumbled as he put the pudding on the table and noticed Hermione glancing back and forth between Harry and Luna with wide eyes before she shook her head and went back to her book. What was up with her? 

“Hey Harry, I heard Slughorn-” 

“Professor Slughorn, Ginny,” Hermione cut her off. Ginny shrugged. 

“Yeah whatever, I heard the Professor was going to throw some party. Who do you think you’re gonna go with?” Asked Ginny as she ate some of Harry’s pudding. Harry just watched her. He had honestly forgotten about Slughorn’s invitation. Should he even go? What would he even wear? 

“Of course he’ll go!” Hermione replied for him before Harry decided. “He-” 

“Aw, c’mon mate!” Ron stopped Hermione as he looked at Harry. “You gotta get as much practice in Quidditch as you can! We gotta beat Slytherin again!”

“Yeah, uh, Ron’s right. I think I’ll just go practice with my broom. You know. As the Captain. I’ve got...responsibilities,” Harry said and watched both Hermione and Ginny frown. He quickly got some more pumpkin juice and sipped it in order to ignore the girls who were whispering to each other. While Ginny had discussions with others, Hermione kept sneaking glances at Harry, thinking Harry didn’t notice of course as he pretended to listen to whatever Ron was talking about (either Quidditch, Snape, or Percy). As Harry continued this act of listening to Ron and being ‘ignorant’ to Hermione’s calculative stares, he began to scan the hall before his eyes stopped on one person. Malfoy.  
A surge of anger hit Harry again as he remembered the way Malfoy had treated him. As if it was Harry’s fault that Malfoy’s Dad had decided to join a Dark Lord and think that he wouldn’t suffer any consequences. Malfoy looked up to meet his eyes for a split second before Malfoy got up to leave. Harry noticed the worried look Parkinson cast Malfoy as he exited the Great Hall. Standing up quickly, Harry gathered his bag and wand. 

“Be right back. Gotta use the loo,” He said and walked away. Just as he was about to catch onto Malfoy, he turned the corner and found himself almost knocking into the Potions Master. “Professor!” 

Snape glared at him before looking around and then looking back down at Harry with a sneer and annoyed black eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be with your friends walking to class, Mr.Potter?” 

Harry bit his lip and nodded, a little annoyed. “I was just on my way. I wanted to get there early.” He hoped that would make Snape back off but Snape stared at him. An eternity passed and then the man walked around him. Harry let out a soft sigh and turned the corner to leave when he heard Snape mumble. 

“The same strut just as his arrogant father.” 

If Harry could hex a teacher without getting in trouble, he would, but he didn’t want to be stuck in detention with Filch or Snape ever again. Maybe casting a bat bogey hex on Snape when he’s of age would make him feel better. He would have to ask Ginny to teach him. Once he heard Snape’s footsteps quiet down the further away he got, he began to search for Malfoy again. When he lost him, Harry swore and quickly changed his destination to the Transfiguration classroom. Hermione and Ron were waiting there when he arrived. The day passed by and Harry was dreading doing his assignments because he knew that Hermione was in a foul mood ever since Ron had been paying special attention to Lavender Brown. He couldn’t get any help from her( at least for today). He was on his way to the dorms when he saw Luna staring at the wall the Room of Requirements usually was at. He walked up to her and noticed how glazy her eyes looked. 

“Luna?” Harry watched as Luna snapped out from her daydreams and looked at Harry. Her gaze went down to the ground and back to the wall. 

“I need the room,” She whispered. “But I’m scared to do it alone.” The fifth year girl looked at Harry again with big eyes and extended her hand. “Come with me, Harry?” 

Normally Harry would’ve told someone that he was tired. But looking at how nervous Luna looked, he held her hand. They began to walk and do the familiar ritual summoning of the Room of Requirement. Finally, there was a wooden door. Luna stood still and Harry opened the room for her. He found himself in a small room with leaves growing all around and small waterfall sculptures decorating the tables in every corner of the room. The smell of rain was strong and made Harry feel warm, safe, and relaxed. The floor was a warm yellow and the tall glass walls were glistening with light. The room was glowing with the sunlight shining in, presenting the place as an ethereal sanctuary. It felt alive. Harry watched Luna look around the room before sitting herself in the middle of a wool carpet right underneath the dome roof. The carpet was a beautiful blue circle with white horses decorating it and Luna dragged her hand all around the carpet’s circumference, as if the horses were following her finger. She looked up and patted right next to her. Harry sat down and continued to observe the room. They sat in silence as Luna played with the horses and Harry watched, amused. Then, she spoke. 

“I saw my Mother die,” Luna revealed. Harry’s heart stopped and he stared at her. “She was brilliant, did you know? She was...lovely.” 

A part of Harry wondered if his mom would’ve been described the same way and a small shard of Harry’s heart ached in jealousy at the fact that at least Luna got to spend time with her mum. But the jealousy easily faded away when he noticed how haunted Luna looked. 

“She was practicing a spell. When..it went wrong. I just remember her laughing and then,” Luna frowned, “...she was on the floor, laying there in silence.” 

Harry didn’t know what to say. He was never the best in comforting people. He just clenched Luna’s hand with his and thought about Sirius. The way his bark of laughter echoed around the room, around Harry’s head, only for it to be cut off by Bellatrix’ curse. He remembers how the last thing he heard from Sirius was a joyful sound only for Harry to hear absolute silence as if his hearing had died along Sirius’ side. 

Did Luna feel this way too? Could she also not forget about the trauma? The loss? 

“I’m sorry,” Harry said as he looked up at her. But as haunted as Luna looked, as scared as she seemed, she didn’t cry. 

_Hopefully_ , Harry thought to himself, _the pain does fade away._

“The pain doesn’t fade away,” Luna whispered. 

Well fuck Harry then. 

Luna looked at Harry and smiled a little. Harry probably looked like shit after hearing that. “The pain doesn’t go away but neither do the happy parts. They’re still there, Harry. That love that you feel for them never goes away and you learn to accept that there are things out of our control. Things that have to happen. Death...people have to die. That’s what we live for, Harry. We exist to die.” 

Harry really should’ve just said no to Luna and gone back to the dorms. He slowly let go of Luna’s hands. 

“I’m not afraid of dying,” Harry said as he stared at the horses who were walking slowly now. “I just...I just wanted someone who understood me. That I could be happy with. Someone to trust. And Sirius did. And now he’s gone because of me. And I don’t know what to do.” He noticed Luna staring at him but he couldn’t stop. “Sometimes I feel like this isn’t real. Like I’m stuck in a horrible nightmare that’s an infinite loop. Sometimes I feel like I have no control. I’m so angry and... and it feels like my body moves on it’s own. Like..Like I’m watching myself from the outside. Or.. sometimes I black out and when I’m back, I’ve done something I regret.” 

He was breathing hard with his throat threatening to close and emerald eyes were watering up. His scar was burning but that pain didn’t stop Harry from digging his nails into his hands to the point where the skin threatened to break. Then, Luna laid a hand on his and Harry felt his body stop shaking. 

“I understand what you're saying,” She said and Harry could’ve burst out in sobs at that exact moment. They sat there in silence again, the sound of Luna’s soft breathing and rain hitting the windows outside was all Harry could hear. It suddenly seemed cold but with Luna here, Harry didn’t mind. After Sirius’ death, all Harry wanted was some peace and quiet. And someone who could understand the pain he was going through and share grief with him. 

Ron couldn’t help Harry because his father had survived (thankfully). Hermione couldn’t relate because she had her family’s support and found happiness for herself. It was impossible to even bring this up to Dumbledore without feeling ashamed of himself as he had already failed to meet the Professor’s expectations and goals to achieve the greater good. But Luna? She was sitting here with him, treating him like a normal boy, and showing Harry a part of life that Harry never really got to learn well: acceptance. 

Accepting the fact that what Harry was feeling was okay. And the reassurance that for once Harry was normal was a complete relief. 

They stayed there for Merlin knows how long. It felt like hours and the rain never stopped. Soon enough, Luna got up and handed Harry another cup of pudding. This time, Harry smiled. 

“Here, Harry. I think the Nargles took your first one since you’ve been off all day. Trust me, it’ll make you feel better.” 

Harry took the snack with grateful hands and began to dig in. It was sweet and soft and it tasted like…

“Treacle tart?” Harry grinned at Luna and she beamed. 

“Nope! I made it with a potion that makes it taste like your favorite food!” Luna seemed proud of herself and Harry honestly was impressed. He wasn’t the best at potions after all. And for Luna to make something like this? It was bloody amazing. 

“It’s great. Thanks, Luna,” Harry said as he finished the pudding. Thinking about it, he did feel great! “Do you..do you sell them?” Luna shook her head and Harry felt disappointed but then he perked up when Luna got him another one. 

“They’re free for you, Harry. You’re my friend,” Luna replied before going to the exit. She stopped herself and looked around. “This room is kind of grey and cold, don’t you think Harry?” 

The boy froze and began to look around. When the hell did the beautiful room go away and why did the room put Luna and Harry in hell? 

“I hope this isn’t your room, Harry. It seems lonely?” 

“It’s not my room, Luna. Trust me. I’d rather die than live here!” 

“Well, explain that to the room. I asked for something special for me. Now that it did its job for me. It was your turn. Obviously, this room is special to you.” She turned the doorknob. 

“Wait don’t leave!” 

Luna left. 

“Bloody hell!” Harry exclaimed as he looked around the room, wand in hand, and empty pudding discarded onto the floor. He noticed that the rain he had been hearing was outside of Riddle’s window. The sky looked grey and there were no cars or people passing by. There was nothing except the bed, wardrobe, and door back to Hogwarts. Putting his wand down, he then noticed something in the corner of his eye that was laying on the bed. He walked towards it and his heart stopped as the familiar faded words “T. M. Riddle” decorated the small leather diary. 

“Riddle,” Harry whispered as his fingers brushed against the hard surface of the old diary. He opened it and found nothing, like the first time he had stumbled across the cursed object. He glared slightly as memories started to come back and he looked around the room to look for more stuff. 

Nothing. 

Harry sighed and sat down on the small twin bed, fiddling with the old book. _Apparently the room thought I needed this...why?_ Harry thought to himself, confused, before shoving it into his pocket and casting Tempus. With wide eyes as he realized it was extremely late, he ran out of the room and the sound of rain faded away and stopped as he closed the door. Turning back to the wall, the door was gone, yet the weight of the diary was still there. 

“I hate my life,” Harry said. 

“Potter! It’s past your bed time! Twenty points off of Gryffindor!” Harry heard Draco Malfoy’s voice behind him and he instantly reached for his wand. 

“Oh piss off, Malfoy!” Harry snarled. Malfoy stepped back as Harry walked back to his dorm.

“Stop strutting as if you own the castle, Potter!” Malfoy teased just when Harry was almost gone. 

Damn…it looked like Harry would be in Azkaban for the murder of Draco Malfoy, not Lord Voldemort. Just as Harry was close enough to launch himself at the ferret and punch Malfoy in the jaw and just as Malfoy had whipped out his wand, a voice stopped them both. 

“Assault Mr.Malfoy and you will face the consequences, Potter,” Snape sneered as he whipped out his wand and pointed it at Harry. Malfoy looked at Snape with wide eyes before smirking at Harry. 

“I was just going back to bed after a meeting with Dumbledore when Malfoy decided to open his big mouth,” Harry said and watched with satisfaction as Malfoy’s eyes shined with anger and lips twitched to a frown. 

“Oh really? Because it seemed to me as if you were reading to assault a Prefect on the job after curfew, an important bedtime set for the children that you have violated, Mr.Potter,” Snape said. “Detention. Tomorrow afternoon. Meet me in my office at 7 o’clock. Be late and the punishment will be worse.” 

_Your arse would feel worse with my foot up it, sir,_ Harry thought to himself angrily as he nodded and walked away before he lost control. Too angry to even bother hearing what was going on around him, Harry failed to hear the conversation between Snape and Malfoy. 

“Did you do it?” Snape asked quietly, staring at Draco who was staring at the wall. 

“I was going to when I found Potter.” 

“You need to be more careful you idiot boy! What if Potter had stumbled across you entering the room?! He would’ve grown suspicious. You know how nosy that boy is!” Snape hissed at Draco, watching how Draco tensed up. 

“You don’t have to tell me, sir! I..I’m going to do it,’ Draco muttered as he summoned the room. A door appeared and Snape watched Draco walk inside silently as the door disappeared just as quickly as it came. The Potions Master went back to his room to write his reports. 

Harry had a dreamless sleep that night. Malfoy had nightmares of Dark Lords and snakes.


	3. The Need for Chlorine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry is not okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next update! I wanna say thank you for all the comments, kudos, subscriptions, and bookmarks! It really makes my day! 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Much to Harry’s delight when he walked into Dumbledore’s office the next day, he told Harry some fabulous news. 

“I’ve told Severus that your detention shall be moved to two weeks from now. Although he was reluctant at first, these lessons are far more important, my boy,” the Headmaster had explained and Harry almost grinned but he kept a serious face as they dived into more memories. Like always, Dumbledore connected the information back to Voldemort and he sent Harry to bed. As they continued to meet more often, Harry noticed the way Dumbledore smiled at him warmly and how safe the Headmaster started making him feel. A small voice in Harry’s head wondered what it would have been like to have been raised by the man. Would Harry had been happier? Would he had been more accepted in this world than in the beginning? (Especially considering that after second year there were still some Hufflepuffs that gave Harry suspicious looks.) Grinning at the Professor, another inner voice rejected any positive possibilities and instead pushed the idea that Dumbledore would’ve met his death incredibly early. And as much as Harry wanted to reject this theory, he knew that there was truth and fact supporting it. That it was the most likely outcome. So Harry settled for reality. 

Soon enough almost two weeks passed. McGonagall had forced him and Ron to register in Potions around the first week and Harry found the most helpful book in his entire life. The Half-Blood Prince’s textbook. The best part of the book, you ask? 

The weird spell that Harry found hilarious. Levicorpus. 

The night after their first Potions lesson (which Harry excelled at, much to Hermione’s confusion) was absolutely brilliant and gave Harry and the other common room boys plenty of inside jokes as he muttered the spell and lifted Ron off of his bed, dangling him in the air. It truly was a sight to see. Ron had been flapping his arms and screaming bloody murder for an entire minute. Harry’s ribs had started hurting from how hard he had been howling with laughter. Ron finally found it funny a few days later. 

And while he should’ve taken the time to investigate the stupid diary he had hidden under his mattress, he hadn’t touched it since he had gone into the Room. It’s not that Harry was scared or that Harry wasn’t interested in it (because Harry was incredibly interested in it, that was for sure). What stopped him, or rather who, were Ginny and Hermione. They wouldn’t leave him alone. While Harry felt bad for Hermione since he noticed the longing glances she would give Ron when his back was turned and the annoyed scoffs she would let out whenever Lavender was even in the same room as her, he felt like the more Hermione clinged onto him, the more Harry was ready to hex her in order to get his message of “give me privacy” across. 

And Ginny? Okay, something was going on with the red headed girl and no matter how many times Harry tried to decipher what it was by watching her, he ended up more frustrated than before. 

Ginny had usually never bothered him before. Frankly, Harry was quite fond of her. She was hilarious, wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, and was actually a pretty great Quidditch player(Harry had noticed in fifth year with the twins). Another plus was that she was a big help which is why he had let her stay on the team much to Ron’s slight shock (which Ginny was incredibly grateful for). Yet here she was, completely destroying Harry’s sort of admiration for her by being really close to him all the time. 

Like, really close. 

It confused the hell out of Harry. Growing up in the muggle world, no girls ever gave him attention and they never saw anything special in him. Just a weird gawky boy with big glasses that was always looking over his shoulder as if he was being followed. (Which he was. He was always hiding or running from Dudley’s little gang.) And yeah sure, growing up in the Wizarding World, Harry did notice the looks some girls gave him whenever he was in the hallway. They would giggle, they would point at his scar, look at his eyes, and burst into giggles again only to leave red faced when Harry gave them a small smile. And while witches here did seem to find him attractive or something like that, it annoyed Harry more considering the reality that they didn’t really know him. They liked the idea of him. Also, Harry found it irritating when they spent one year loving him and the next year hating him, with the cycle of love and hate going on forever. 

But Ginny had never been like that. Ginny knew him better than those girls and much more than Cho Chang ever did according to Hermione. (They had a talk about how ‘healthy’ Cho and Harry’s relationship would be after that god awkward kiss and let’s just say Harry was not going to be asking Cho out soon). But recently, the conversations between them, while hilarious and definitely uplifting considering Harry’s life right now, were almost..tense when they reached an end? Just as Harry thought the conversation was over, Ginny would smile and stare at him as if she was waiting for something that only he had before walking away. 

And each time Ginny gave him a hug after practice, her hug was so tight that Harry feared she would choke the life out of him and get the job done for Voldemort. Each time she walked away with the biggest smile on her face, each time Ron gave him intense weird looks after Ginny talked to Harry, each time Dean or some random guy would glare at him, the more bewildered Harry became. 

These weird things kept happening but Harry didn’t say anything since he had bigger things to worry about, truthfully. Nevertheless, that didn’t mean it stopped bothering him because Harry almost choked on his bread when Ginny laid her head on his shoulder during dinner. His heart was beating really fast and he quickly made his leave after that, even when Ginny gave him the most pained look he had ever seen on her. While Ron looked livid and Hermione wore a smile (...was that pride in Hermione’s face?) The Chosen One ignored them as he marched all the way to his bed and passed out the moment his head met the pillow. 

It was a strange dream. He was sitting in his cupboard, cramped in, staring at a carving he had done at eight years old on the old chipped wood frame. ‘Harry’s room’. All the boy could feel was cold as his fingers started to shake and lose feeling. He was starving, his head was throbbing with pain, and his lips were chapped from dehydration. Closing his eyes and squeezing his knees up to his chest, Harry’s lungs started to ache as the cupboard grew smaller, smaller, smaller- 

And then the door burst open and Harry was yanked out by long fingers and strong hands. Dizzy and barely making out a figure standing over him Harry tried to catch his breath. As he tried to figure out who the person was, he felt soft fingers tracing his jaw and whispering to him. 

“Wake up, Harry,” Ginny whispered. “Look at me, it’s okay.” But as her grip grew tighter, Harry kept his sight locked onto the figure that had saved him. He didn’t care that Ginny was straddling him, he didn’t care that Ginny was pleading for him to look at her in a soft whisper. He cared about the person or thing that was walking away from him. Harry opened his mouth to scream at them to come back, they surprised him when they stopped and looked at him. At the top blob of black that looked quite like a head were two blue stones placed where watchful eyes would be. Mesmerized, he refused to look at Ginny. He didn’t want to look at Ginny, He didn’t want to be with Ginny. He didn’t, he didn’t, he didn’t, he wanted to know who- 

“Look at me,” A voice hissed and Harry realized how much his face was hurting. For once, he looked away from the figure that had been staring at him with their shining sapphire eyes from across the room, and looked at Ginny who’s hold on his jaw was excruciatingly tight to the point where his jaw was about to shatter. But to Harry’s surprise it wasn’t Ginny. 

Emerald eyes met red ones and Harry screamed. 

The first thing he reached for when his eyes snapped open was his holly wand. The boy looked frantically around the room. He heard Ron’s snores and Neville’s slow sleep talk and Harry ran his hands through his thick messy hair before falling back onto the bed in shock. He laid there for a while before he got up, reached under the mattress and pulled out the diary. He ran his hands over the cover and traced the both tarnished yet worshipped name to forever brand it. He started to cautiously consider different ways how the diary could be dangerous. How Harry should be responsible and keep the diary locked away, even if it was harmless. To have it checked, to have it stored away. “Or...or I could keep it?” Harry said to himself under his breath, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. 

Harry had two options. 

Tell Dumbledore about the diary he had found from the room…

Or keep his secrets, endure the nightmares, and figure this out himself. 

His shoulders felt heavy and sore and he rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to keep himself awake. Maybe it would be better to just tell Dumbledore the truth and ask for help. That’s what people did, right? If they had a hard time, they would ask someone they trust for help. Harry grit his teeth as he thought to himself _, Sirius would’ve helped. He would’ve known what to do. I’m sure of it._

Being as quiet as possible, Harry put on the cloak, shoved Riddle’s diary in his pocket and started walking to Dumbledore’s office. He walked past the portraits who apparently were having some kind of bet on when the Grey Lady and the Bloody Baron were going to have a fight again (Harry was sure he had heard of the Grey Lady, he’d had to ask someone about it later. Probably Luna. She knew everything). He walked until he saw the gargoyles. He stopped in front of them and told them the magic words: “Ice Mice”. They moved, revealing the familiar staircase that Harry walked up, into Dumbledore’s office. He knocked and waited, hearing Fawke’s cries alert Dumbledore about the visitor. Soon enough, the man Harry had been aching to see opened the door to stare at Harry with curious twinkling eyes that matched his purple, star decorated robe. He invited Harry in and Harry sat silently on the chair as Fawkes bumped its head against Harry’s palm. He petted Fawkes as Dumbledore sat down in front of him. 

“It’s quite past curfew, Harry,” Dumbledore said as he watched the way Fawkes craved Harry’s attention. Harry didn’t have to look up to know that Dumbledore was staring at him with expectant eyes and waiting ears. When Harry said nothing, Dumbledore took initiative. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Harry replied quickly, frowning. He focused on the way Fawkes’ feathers were warm against his hand. The way the phoenix’s soft sounds almost served as a lullaby that made the tired boy want to pass out and sleep for eternity in front of the Professor. 

“Harry-” 

“I’m fine, sir.” 

“-You were never a good Occlumens,” Dumbledore sighed softly and Harry finally looked up as Dumbledore’s words registered in his head. 

“Excuse me?” Harry stared. 

Fawkes had stopped the moment Harry had looked at Dumbledore and had flown away to its stand to sleep. Harry could hear a clock ticking. As the fury started to build up in him again after fully comprehending what the Headmaster had said, Harry didn’t want to be in the same room as him ever again. He never wanted to look him in the eyes ever again. He never wanted to be vulnerable in front of Dumbledore ever again. The old man stood up just as Harry did and walked after him. 

“My boy-” 

“No,” Harry said. He didn’t turn to look at his Professor, he kept his back to him, hands shaking. “You...You looked in. Without my permission. You didn’t wait for me to tell you, you just searched my mind like I was nothing! Merlin, you didn’t even have to look at me in the eye to do it!” Harry hissed, eyes watering up. He heard no reply. “I was _never_ a good Occlumens? Tell me, sir, how many times have you violated my mind without me knowing?” Finally gathering up the courage, the teenager turned and stared at the man who was focused on the ground. “What did you see?” 

“I saw the nightmare. I searched for no other memories, I swear. I’m sorry, I just wished to help,” The man replied. 

“‘To help’. Right,” Harry repeated under his breath. Harry had had two options. Now he had one. He looked back at the man who looked like he had aged years. And the frown and sorry look in his eyes didn’t match the Headmaster he had looked up to at eleven years old and older. “I’m sorry for bothering you at such an inappropriate time, Professor Dumbledore. I’ll be going to bed now.” And with that, Harry blocked out however times the Professor called out his name and clutched the diary in his pocket with hands that intended to never let go for hours. Harry didn’t sleep that night, too angry and too hurt by the person who he had been learning to trust again. He stayed up awake, staring at the diary sitting on the middle of his bed, and going through the different things he could do. Coming up with nothing, Harry waited until morning to go to the Great Hall. He took a quick shower, put on the first things he saw, and walked to the table, reading the book. He noticed Slughorn in the corner of his eyes with the biggest grin slapped on his face and Harry just sighed. _'He’ll definitely want me at his party'_ , Harry thought miserably. He began to flip through the potions book when his fingers stopped at an interesting spell. 

_‘Sectumsempra.’_

“For enemies,” He whispered. Then, he heard Hermione’s voice echoing from the entrance and he put away his book calmly to avoid a Hermione interrogation.

“What did you just put away?” She asked and Harry almost groaned. He had failed. 

“Just the potions textbook, Hermione,” He said and grabbed some pumpkin juice, toast, and whipped out some of Luna’s pudding. 

“Harry-” 

“Yeah yeah, I know, Hermione. I gotta be careful, right? Can’t just trust anything.” Or anyone apparently. Harry held back the urge to give Dumbledore a dirty look as he chomped on his bread. He heard Hermione sigh and serve herself a plate. 

“You have detention with Snape tonight, okay? Don’t forget,” The girl told him as she drank her water and Harry stopped himself from giving back a snarky reply. All he did was nod and point at his pudding. “Harry, what are you trying to say?” 

“That’s why I have the pudding. It puts me in a good mood. Luna made it. Tastes like treacle tart,” Harry said as he drank his juice. Ron joined them and began to serve himself a mountain of food. Harry and Hermione watched, still entertained no matter how many years they had seen Ron serve himself monstrous serving sizes. 

“You’ve got the fastest metabolism I’ve ever seen,” Hermione whispered and Harry nodded. Ron looked at them confused. 

“Oi, I don’t speak muggle. What’s metaprism?” Ron asked, curious as he watched Harry snort and Hermione giggle. “Hey, I’m being serious-” 

“Oh Ronniekins!” Lavender sang as she sat next to Ron and gave him a big kiss on the cheek. Harry raised an eyebrow and watched amused as Ron’s face matched his red hair and Hermione went silent. He noticed Hermione’s stabbing of her food got aggressive and started to drink his pumpkin juice quicker. “Hi Harry! Hi Hermione!” Lavender smiled and Harry gave her a wave. Hermione smiled at her before going back to playing with her food. Ron and Lavender seemed pleased and Hermione got up and looked at Harry. 

“Are you ready?” She snapped and Harry just stood up, grabbed his pudding, said his goodbye, and let Hermione lead them to charms. Once they were a safe distance away, Hermione let out a frustrated noise as her pace got quicker and Harry started to speed walk. “God! Can you believe their lack of respect for others?! It’s morning and people are trying to eat! Can’t they suck their faces off later in private?!” 

Harry nodded. 

“Didn’t that make you uncomfortable?!” 

Another nod. 

“Well say something!” Hermione yelled as she gave Harry a scary look and Harry quickly started blurting whatever popped up in his head out. 

“Oh! Yeah, yeah, I gagged!” He said and almost sighed in relief when she kept walking, rambling about Ron and Lavender. They got to Charms and Harry sat down with Hermione plopping herself next to him. Flitwick walked in and smiled at them. The class began and ended. As Harry started packing his bag, he noticed Flitwick waving at him to stay back. 

“Er, Hermione, I’ll see you later. I think Professor Flitwick needs to talk,” Harry said as he hugged her and she departed. The Charms teacher walked to him with a smile on his face and Harry shyly smiled back. “Am I in trouble?” 

“Oh no! Headmaster Dumbledore tasked me in giving you private lessons. I called you to tell you we will start tomorrow at 5 o’clock. Goodbye!” 

“I’m sorry sir, I’m confused,” Harry frowned. Flitwick frowned back. 

“Mr.Potter. I acknowledge that you’re going through a lot right now. But these lessons are crucial if you wish to excel at magic and unleash your potential. Headmaster Dumbledore is labeling these lessons for you as requirements. They’re important tasks that you need to learn, practice, and master,” Flitwick continued. He handed Harry a textbook that he had been holding to his chest. Harry took it. “This text will be useful and will answer most of your questions as you study outside this room. Now, off you go to Defense. I hear Snape is in a good mood today!” 

Whatever good mood Flitwick had been talking about had vanished off of Snape’s face when he looked up to meet Harry’s eyes as the boy walked into the classroom. Harry glared and for a second Snape stopped to stare at him before he gave Harry a deadly gaze. 

_Git._

He sat down next to Hermione. The class was silent and no one moved an inch. They were all staring at Snape, waiting to see what the man would be torturing them with today. As Harry got bored and looked around the class he realized the room basically looked like the teacher. Minimalistic, black, and dark. 

“You will...give me your attention if you wish to succeed in this class,” Snape said as his gaze lingered on Harry before turning and walking around the class, watching every single student as if he were dissecting them carefully. “I will teach you how to defeat immortal monsters without a single movement or voiced incantation. I will teach you how to twist your enemy’s hubris into the greatest weapon to trigger their hamartia.” Snape stopped in front of Harry and Hermione. 

“The Dark Arts are a type of magic that has a mind of its own...you learn more from it than of it. It has no boundaries and is addicting. In order to counter it, you have to be unpredictable, quick, and prepared to see things that you would think impossible or horrible.” 

_'You’d know a lot about horrible and no boundaries, Snape',_ Harry thought as he scanned the pictures on the board. They showed people suffering, people screaming, people at their weakest, and people dead. The one picture that showed an army of merlin-knows-what clawing at a woman and dragging her into the water, leaving behind remains and a pile of blood, caused Harry to shiver. Snape seemed to notice as he looked at the picture. 

“If you fail to defend yourself against the dark arts, it either corrupts you from the inside and keeps eating your magic until you begin to crave its toxicity, or it kills you in the most painful way,” Snape whispered before walking away from Harry and Hermione. Harry just looked at his hands but then looked up at Hermione when she held onto Harry’s jacket with wide eyes staring at Cruciatus' victim, face pale. Nobody said anything as Snape introduced the lesson and told them all they needed to know about nonverbal spells. At this, Harry perked up and glanced at his bag that had the textbook Flitwick had given him. In the title it had mentioned something about nonverbal spells. 

“Do keep in mind that nonverbal spells can be the singular thing that could achieve you a victory. It gives you the ability to be unpredictable. However, this sweet success is restricted to wizards that are able to have complete control and concentration. Something many wizards-” Snape smirked at Harry. “-lack.” 

Refusing to submit to Snape, Harry held his head high and felt all the more determined to master nonverbal spells in order to rub it into Snape’s face. When Snape separated them into pairs, Ron and Harry got together. 

Harry had to hide a grin as Ron continuously tried to silently jinx him only for them to backfire each time. Just as they were about to switch, Snape stepped in and Harry tensed up. 

“Pathetic, Weasley. Let me show you how it’s done,” Snape said. Harry noticed Malfoy watching with a stupid smirk and Harry almost cast a jinx at Malfoy instead. In the blink of an eye, Snape raised his wand at Harry like a snake about to strike and Harry countered verbally, “Protego!” 

Everyone watched as Snape was knocked back into some desks. The Professor scowled as he balanced himself. “Do you not remember the objective of today is to cast nonverbal spells, Potter?” 

“Yes,” Harry replied. 

“Yes, _sir._ ” 

“There’s no need to call me sir, Professor.” 

Snape’s eyes darkened and he heard gasps from all around the class. The Slytherins gave Harry dirty looks (Malfoy giving the dirtiest one of course) but Dean, Ron, and Seamus grinned cheekily at Harry with a big thumbs up. But watching Snape’s face turn from smug to livid was worth it in Harry’s book. Soon enough, the students left and Hermione started marching up to him but the Gryffindor boys crowded Harry. 

“You’re crazy,” Neville said. 

“He’s blood brilliant!” Ron grinned and smacked Harry on the back as Dean and Seamus eagerly praised Harry. 

“Potter. Don’t forget your detention with me tonight,” Snape said from behind them and the Gryffindors all froze to look at him. 

“Yes, Professor,” was all Harry said before walking away with his friends trailing behind him. 

“Also, could you believe the way Snape sounded when he was talking about the dark arts? Like a lunatic!” Ron laughed and Harry couldn’t help but agree. 

“I don’t know,” Hermione cut in. “He reminded me a bit of Harry.” 

_“Excuse me?”_ Harry stopped in his tracks and gaped at her. Ron shook his head. 

“Don’t insult Harry like that-” 

“Ron, I’m serious! He seemed passionate when he was teaching and what he said could parallel what you taught us last year, Harry. I mean, it’s about being determined, careful, and quick, not just instinctive, right?” Hermione frowned as Dean and Seamus shrugged and walked away. Ron rolled his eyes but Harry was quiet. He was quiet the rest of the way to Herbology, silent for the rest of the day, and focused on eating his pudding before detention. He walked to Snape’s dungeons and knocked, waiting patiently, smiling at whatever passing non-Slytherin there was. 

“Enter,” He heard Snape drawl and he did. Harry watched the man drop whatever it was carefully into the boiling potion. The man looked up and gestured to a wall of cauldrons. “Well don’t just stand there like an idiot and do nothing. Get working.” 

“Cleaning?” 

“Obviously.” 

Harry set down his bag by the door and walked straight to the dirty ‘dishes’. Snape swished his wand, making muggle cleaning supplies pop up next to Harry. Harry got to work and all he could hear was the potion boiling and Snape chopping up ingredients. Used to doing all the cleaning for the Dursleys, Harry was on his way to being able to get to dinner early due to how fast he was finishing. This chance went away though, when Snape started talking. 

“Your little stunt today won’t be able to save you the next time you’re face to face with a nonverbal spell, Potter,” Snape started and Harry’s grip on the brush got tighter. 

“I understand,” Harry replied, intending to finish the conversation as soon as possible yet Snape had other ideas. There was an uncomfortable silence from Snape as Harry quickly scrubbed. The chopping had stopped. 

“Ignorant, just like your father. Naive, just like your Godfather.” 

Harry slowed down as his heart started to pick up in pace and he clenched his jaw. 

“People have died doing the stupid stunt you have pulled today yet you cast aside my words of advice like a child. Tell me, Potter, do you believe yourself immune to death?” 

_'Well that’s a stupid question.'_ “I am the boy-who-lived, Professor. People already think I am, remember?” With that, Snape slammed the knife down and Harry stopped scrubbing, breathing hard. 

“Don’t treat the sacrifices people have done for you like they’re nothing, Potter!” Snape said. “You would think that a boy with the biggest responsibility in the world would understand the seriousness in dedicating himself to his duty! That you would be selfless, that you would be careful, and considerate, yet you present yourself as the opposite. You’re just like your father, Potter!” 

Harry kept quiet. 

“Selfish!” 

Harry started to think to himself. _‘Complete control and concentration’._

“Reckless!” 

Harry started to focus. _‘For enemies…’_

“Conceited!” 

Harry got up and turned. Snape got up too and opened his mouth to start sneering and continue verbally attacking him. Harry could feel the anger swimming through his body. Dedicated and determined, he mustered up the courage and…

_‘Sectu-’_

The door opened and Malfoy walked in, cutting off Harry’s nonverbal attempt. Harry felt the world stop and he felt lightheaded and there was a ringing in his ear. The realization of what Harry had almost done ushered the golden child out of the door, snatching his bag, and running to the Room of Requirement.


	4. Bellyache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is lost, we see Hermione crying, Myrtle screaming, and some tension between Harry and Dumbledore. 
> 
> But one thing that Harry knows for sure? Staring at the blood that's spreading around like a lion taking territory, he might pass out or throw up. 
> 
> Probably both.
> 
> Also, Potter and Malfoy should go to couple's therapy or something.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm sorry this chapter took so long to come out, I've been pretty busy and stressed since I'm starting uni in like four days lol. But I finally got to sit down today and write for you guys! Every single kudos, comment, bookmark, and sub makes me really happy. I'm always refreshing my gmail to see if I get any notifications from my readers haha. 
> 
> I spent a good two hours making a music playlist for this story and let me tell you guys, it was a roller coaster of emotions. All I can say is that I think McGonagall or Dumbledore should've given Harry a proper therapist...
> 
> I hope everyone is staying safe during quarantine! Wear your mask, stay six feet apart, and be extra careful out in public, please. 
> 
> Stay safe, stay healthy! 
> 
> Also! Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter series/books. All rights belong to J.K Rowling pertaining to the original series.

Harry ran, ran, ran, summoned the room, and threw himself inside. He felt his chest closing up, he fell to his knees, he yanked his hair, and he screamed. The noise vibrated around the room and thunder roared as the rain began to pour. The room flashed with light before settling back into darkness and Harry started to tear up. 

“What’s wrong with me?” Harry muttered between shuddery gasps. The rain fell harder and harder, practically banging against the window.

Boom.

Boom. 

Boom!

The wind picked up and suddenly, the world was alive and angry. The sky grew grey and the room dropped in temperature, pushing Harry to the verge of hypothermia. Everything started to shake. The wardrobe, the bed, a wooden desk that Harry hadn’t noticed before, and the chair. With what little energy Harry had left, he crawled under the bed and curled up in a ball but nothing stopped. Suddenly, Harry’s heart started racing and his chest started burning. He felt like he was falling into infinity with nothing to grab onto, nothing to stop him, nothing to hold him stable. This horror show streamed for hours with no breaks as Harry continued to hold shelter under the old, small bed. His mouth felt dry and his lips chapped but Harry chanted under his breath for hours.

“I didn’t mean to almost do it,” He said. “I didn’t actually want to. I’m sure it’s a spell to shut him up, I’m sure it was-” Harry stopped himself and clenched his eyes shut. _‘But..what if it wasn’t?’_ He jumped when the wind blew one last final blow, destroying the window in its path, and knocking something onto the ground. Harry stared in shock at the diary that was a feet away. Was the room fucking mocking him? 

“No,” Harry whispered but quickly snatched the book when he felt the wind blow harshly against the bed and move the mattress. Why was the room getting so bloody violent? “Fine!” Harry snarled as he opened the diary, giving up. “I’ll open this stupid book up, no need to try to kill me!” 

The pages were blank and Harry slammed it down. “There’s nothing in here!” 

The wind started again and swirled around the room and began to turn the pages. Looking down, Harry watched as ink etched itself across every page. A minute later, the once empty pages were marked with loops of ink with dates scattered around. 

“Oh.” 

The storm had stopped. The teen rubbed his chest above his heart and crawled out. Looking around, the room was back to normal and he sat down on the bed, slowly calming down. He picked up the diary and began to read random pages.  


December 31, 1934  


‘Billy Stubbs’ bunny was found dead today. It was hung in front of Billy’s door like a piece of mistletoe in winter. Everyone blamed me for it.

They don’t talk to me. They stay away from me. The adults look at me and mutter ‘devil’s child’ as they pass by. 

Martha was the only one who said happy birthday but by the way her hands were shaking and her smile was twitching, she was scared of me. I know it’  


December 31, 1936

‘There is tension between all the adults in the orphanage. They give each other wary looks. I notice they all go into a room together every once in a while and come out with scared faces and red eyes. Sometimes I hear them cry, which makes the other orphans scared, yet they hide their secrets. They act as if not knowing will keep us safe. 

It makes me angry. 

Do they think I’m dumb? I’ve heard the whispers around the street and read the paper headlines when passing by. 

Hitler has been growing an army and Germany’s intentions are becoming unknown. People have been going missing and we’ve been losing resources. The food is scarce, Cole has been getting aggressive, and yet they say not a word to me. But I don’t need to ask. I know what’s coming. I don’t want it to. 

I refuse to die.’

December 1939

‘I talked to Headmaster Dippet about the declaration of war from Germany, guided by Hitler’s desire to pursue his twisted manifest destiny. I was about to bring up the fact that the orphanage was in a vulnerable location to possible raids and was suffering tremendously...when Dippet refused to let me stay in order to seek shelter from the war. 

I left and had noticed Dumbledore watching from a distance. 

Winter holidays began soon after the meeting and I write this short passage on a train ride back to Wool’s. While I refuse to die, the idea of it and the reality of this war pushes me to keep my legacy alive with my own proper writing. 

I had hoped to find help at Hogwarts yet there was none.’ 

September 1940

‘The first thing I was shown during breakfast was Alphard’s front page of the Prophet that showed the damage of a German bomb attack on London. I had accidentally froze up before excusing myself a few moments after to compose myself properly. While Malfoy made a small comment on it, with a single look he kept himself quiet for the rest of the week. 

If I had been there, if I had been near London, who knows what would have happened. 

Dumbledore kept a close eye on me for the rest of the day and Slughorn expressed his concern. I smiled at him and assured him that I would be fine and that I would be on time for the Slug Club supper party. I have to be fine anyways.

I refuse to die.’

Harry flipped through a bunch of the pages and found a pattern. In almost each one, Riddle had written: “I refuse to die”, almost as if it was ritual for him to close his entry with that phrase. As Harry’s fingers lingered on those words, emerald eyes analyzing the dates, something in him couldn’t help but feel bad for Riddle. Just like he had felt when he had seen Riddle sitting in the middle of his simple room, living in a grey world, with his back to whoever opened the door. And as the rain settled down, Harry focused on two facts about the diary’s writer. One, Riddle was terrified of death, something that Dumbledore had referenced various times. Two, Riddle had no safe room for the war when away from Hogwarts. The boy-who-lived closed the diary softly and got up, leaving behind the small reminder of Riddle’s humanity and isolated past. Harry immediately drifted to sleep when his head touched the pillow without a goodnight to Ron. 

Weeks passed and Harry kept a small routine for himself. It was lonely, but he had to make due. He would wake up, eat whatever was closest to him, go into the room and dive into more diary entries in the Room of Requirement. The more he followed this schedule, the more time Harry had to reflect on himself by himself. And while a part of him missed Hermione and Ron, he found that he began to learn small things from it as Riddle documented the body language of others and how to read their faces.(Something Harry definitely had started practicing by reading Hermione and others. He noted that whenever Ron was around, Hermione would shift her legs towards the ginger. When Lavender was around, Hermione bit her inner cheek, never met anyone in the eyes, and her eyebrow was always raised higher than the other.) But what Harry found the most interesting in Riddle’s diary was his dedication to documenting every exit and entrance at Hogwarts (besides the hidden secret ones that only the Marauder’s map revealed, something Harry felt giddy about). While Dumbledore and Slughorn had characterized Riddle as observant, Harry never imagined the boy to be like this. Actually, if Harry could describe Riddle in one word, it would be paranoid. Riddle noted who used which exit or entrance the most, how fast it would take someone to get from one place to another, and how many people were in the room with him and what they were doing. No one ever noticed. Harry would dedicate about thirty minutes every morning reading Riddle’s written thoughts before going to class and then going to Flitwick’s lessons. 

Which, by the way, were going horrible in Harry’s perspective. 

Dumbledore had tasked Flitwick to teach Harry how to cast wandless magic. 

_‘He’s trying to kill me this year with work,’_ Harry thought to himself as he barely dodged another wandless (and nonverbal) spell from Flitwick. _‘Fuck my life.’_

Breathing hard, legs sore, tired and frustrated, Harry’s hand trembled as he raised it and yelled, “Rictusempra!” 

Flitwick's eyes widened and he burst out laughing. Harry’s heart surged with satisfaction and pride as he watched the charms professor laugh but this quickly went away when Flitwick stopped laughing and suddenly, Harry was on the floor. He groaned when Flitwick came to view and took the man’s hand, getting up. 

“Nice try, Mr.Potter. But you have to mean it more when it comes to wandless magic,” Flitwick said, amused. Harry’s heart skipped a beat at the last part, reminding him of the bitch that had killed Sirius, but he shook his head quickly and just sighed. “Sit down, Harry.” 

Flitwick got some tea as Harry sat down. They said nothing in a comfortable silence and Harry smiled thankfully at Flitwick when the teacher set some tea down in front of them. 

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Professor,” Harry shared with a frown. He watched the other nod before sipping his tea. “It’s been weeks and I haven’t made any progress and frankly, it is starting to...frustrate me.” 

“That’s what I expected, Harry,” Flitwick shared back and watched Harry give him a weirded out look. The man chuckled. “Have you been reading the book I gave you?” Harry nodded. “Alright. What does it say about a wizard and witch during childhood?” 

“That their magic is powerful and unexpected, it usually happens when they’re mad or when they want something or..something like that,” Harry shrugged. “That’s why they use a wand when they’re eleven and start school. To learn to not do accidental magic ‘cause it’s dangerous-” 

“Ah, yet despite it being dangerous, it is praised. Is it not, Mr.Potter?”Flitwick interrupted with a grin. Harry was startled. 

‘Er, yeah, it is. Then they need a wand and start school at eleven because now they know they can do magic-” 

“The wand is an invention to make magic easier to control, not a requirement to do it, Harry,” Flitwick cut him off again. A part of Harry was getting annoyed but he kept quiet as Flitwick continued. “Children are smart, Harry. Don’t ever underestimate them. Oftentimes they notice what grown ups don’t. Their ‘accidental magic’ is just magic without a wand. It is no accident. Wandless magic is something natural to them because they are more sensitive to their emotions and embrace them, so their core uses it to its advantage.” 

Harry stared at the Professor, “So what you’re telling me is that I have to act like a kid?”

Flitwick shrugged and dumped some sugar in his tea. 

“Like, the whole temper tantrums and stuff?”

Flitwick shrugged and sipped his tea. 

“I...I really did mean for that last spell to work, Professor,” Harry said and Flitwick smiled up at him. 

“Oh, that spell did work. But just a little bit. I also think you’re making fabulous progress in these lessons. There’s no real weekly objective, Harry. The lessons are made to follow your pace and encourage you, not pressure.” Well that was a relief. “What I’m telling you is to keep practicing and embrace failure. To lose control so you can learn again. In fact, if you wish, feel free to attempt wandless magic during my class or during Transfiguration. Or if you wish to extend our lessons to include early mornings, I am always available.” 

Harry couldn’t help but smile gratefully. “Morning would be nice too, Professor. If..if you think I’m doing good then I’ll keep trying.” Flitwick beamed up at Harry and sent him off to dinner with the textbook. 

Sitting down at the end of the table, Harry began to read. He didn’t notice or look up when Hermione and Ron sat across from him. Hermione coughed and Harry’s eyes snapped up before going back down. 

“Hey,” Harry nodded as he focused on the paragraph about some muggleborn kid that accidentally apparated halfway across the world. 

“Hey, Harry..wanna go fly in the Pitch tomorrow?” Harry considered it before shaking his head. He was busy. 

“Harry, do you want to go to Hogsmeade this weekend?” Hermione asked and watched Harry shake his head. Minutes passed by as Ron and Hermione kept asking Harry what he wanted to do and just when Ron promised treacle tarts again, Harry slammed the book down and glared at them. 

“Are you both blind?” Harry hissed. Hermione’s eyes were big as she leaned away and Ron glared back at Harry. Harry noticed how Ron had grabbed Hermione’s arm for a second before pulling away when Hermione’s eyes glanced quickly down at Ron’s hand. 

“There’s no need to be a dick, Harry,” Ron frowned and Harry rolled his eyes. 

“I’m not being a dick. I’m asking a question. Do you not see the book in my hands and my eyes focused on it?” 

Hermione sighed softly and fidgeted in her seat. “Harry,” she began. “We’re worried about you. You..you don’t spend time with us. You’re taking these lessons that we have no idea about and you’ve been pushing everyone away ever since that detention.” Seeing Harry tense up, Hermione looked at him worried. “I’m right, aren’t I?Did...did something happen?” 

Ron looked at Harry, expectant and also worried as Harry shook his head. 

“Nothing happened, Hermione,” the black haired boy said quickly. Hermione scoffed and leaned closer and Ron copied. They huddled closer and stared at Harry, waiting for him to give in. But this time? Harry wasn’t going to. If Harry had learned anything from fifth year, it was to keep his fear of being evil and changing to himself. “Actually, if you’d please excuse me and let me go, I’d very much like to go to bed right now. I’m exhausted.” Harry smiled and Hermione blushed at the annoyed undertone in her friend’s voice. While Hermione backed off, Ron kept marching forward. 

“No, I’m sorry, mate. But I’m worried about you! Just talk to us! It’s been weeks! Months! All you do is wake up, go to class, disappear for hours, and come back to pass out!” Ron exclaimed and Harry noticed some Gryffindors giving them curious looks. He smiled at them and sat up straight and started to pack his things slowly. 

“I’m fine, Ron.” Those three words should’ve ended the discussion but Ron was on a roll and he was determined to discover what was wrong with Harry. 

“Look, Harry. I get it. You lost Sirius. And you’re probably really angry and confused and all those things but that doesn’t give you the right to push us away when we’re trying to give you the help that you need.”

At the mention of Sirius, Harry glared at his redheaded best friend and hissed, “You don’t know anything about what I’m going through, Ron! You don’t get to act like you understand and you especially don’t get to tell me what I need and what I can or can’t do!”  
There was tension as Hermione frantically looked between the boys. Harry had a firm grip on the corner of the table and Ron’s knuckles were a pale white from clenching the fork in his hand so hard. The Gryffindors around them were staring at the golden trio and started whispering when Harry swung his bag over his shoulder and left the two behind. Ron sat down and just stabbed his pork. Hermione bit her lip and looked at Ron. 

“He’s right, Ron,” Hermione whispered. Ron stopped and looked at her. “We don’t know what he’s going through. We can’t..tell him what to do either. I’m sure Harry will talk to us when he’s ready. Right?” 

Ron shook his head and just sighed. “Hermione. You’re a great friend, alright? But Harry won’t be ready to talk to us about it. He’ll never be ready to talk about Sirius’ death. He barely talked about Cedric’s since you know, people were calling him a liar and other shit. Whatever help Harry thinks he needs later, is help that I know he needs now.” 

The two ate dinner in silence they hadn’t shared for a long time. Neither of them noticed Luna walking after Harry. The Ravenclaw girl walked to the Room and stared at it before summoning it. She walked in and laid a hand on Harry’s shoulder as he sat in the middle of the grey room. 

“Are you okay?” Luna asked and she sat across from him as he shook his head. “You don’t have to talk, you know? I can do enough for the both of us. Sitting here together is fine. Just don’t stay alone. That’s what the Dadderblimps want.” Harry said nothing as Luna hummed to herself and looked around the room. “You know...you always summon this room. Did whoever live here help you? Did you love them?” 

Harry started chuckling and he shook his head before running his hands through his hair. He had a headache. Luna gave him pudding and Harry ate it. The silence in between them stretched on for a while as the two looked around the room. For once, it wasn’t raining. But it wasn’t sunny outside either. The sky was drawn in grayscale but it was nice to hear nothing. 

“So, Slughorn is having a party,” Harry said, catching Luna’s attention. “I was wondering if you’d come with me. You know, since I feel comfortable with you. I just..I feel like you’re the only one who listens, you know?” 

Luna grinned and Harry couldn’t help but grin back as she nodded. 

“I’d love to. Can I wear my special earrings?” 

“Oh please do, Luna.” 

“What are you gonna wear?” 

Here, Harry was stumped. Merlin, what was he going to wear? Normally he’d ask Hermione for help but that would be giving her a ticket to a free interrogation session for an entire afternoon. “Uh, could you help me?” 

The girl nodded and stood up and went to leave. She turned around and gave Harry a small smile. “I never did say thank you for staying with me last time. So..thank you for sharing her anniversary with me.” 

“Oh..her...did your mom pass away that day?” Harry asked and watched Luna nod. 

“It was also my birthday,” she said and left Harry to sit there and think. Soon enough he got up and left, walking wherever his legs took him as his mind drifted off. Then, he heard a voice in the far distance yet so, so close at the same time as it echoed down the empty hall.

“I can’t do this,” He heard before Harry turned the corner just in time to see someone walk into the girl’s bathroom. Weird, he could’ve sworn it was a guy. Following the stranger, Harry snuck into the bathroom and hid as he stared at Draco Malfoy’s figure hunched over the sink. He heard sobs and saw Malfoy yank his hair. Pity began to rise in Harry but it was quickly discarded and replaced with suspicion and alarm as he heard Malfoy mumble. “I have to kill him.” 

_‘Kill?’_ Harry repeated in his head and he frowned. _‘I need to tell someone...I think McGonagall would listen.’_ Harry gripped his wand and began to scan the room. One entrance and one exit right next to it. About eight mirrors that Malfoy could glance into and spot Harry if he went for the exit. Malfoy’s wand was clutched in hand and he seemed more stressed and paranoid, making leaving a much harder task than Harry would’ve enjoyed. 

Harry just needed a distraction if he wanted to leave. 

Myrtle soared in and stared at Malfoy with pity in her eyes. Emerald eyes watched the Slytherin break down as he crouched down and buried his face in his hands. Malfoy’s legs were shaking, his sobs were increasing in sound and pace, and the mood in the bathroom changed from tense to chaotic as the Malfoy heir let loose and showed weakness. Myrtle got closer to Draco and tilted her head. 

“Let me help you, Draco,” Myrtle whispered as she stared at him. The blond boy never met her eyes as he shook his head. 

“No one can help me. If I don’t do this...if I don’t kill him, he’ll kill me..I don’t want to die,” Draco whimpered and Harry stopped everything he was doing to stare at the boy he could’ve sworn had a perfect spoiled life. Something in Harry thought back to the diary and the repetitive chants Riddle had written all over the diary. _‘I refuse to die.’_

Whatever or whoever was threatening Malfoy was holding a wand to his throat yet was also holding his strings and playing with him like a puppet. And the more they dehumanized him, the more Malfoy felt fear. The more Malfoy felt like he was going to die. The more Malfoy was played with, the more Harry felt whatever it was he was feeling right now for him. Was it actual pity? Empathy? Harry didn’t have enough time to figure this out as Malfoy looked into the mirror and striked at Harry. 

Something changed in Harry and he wasn’t trying to get out of the bathroom anymore. He wasn’t nervous like he first was when he was facing Quirrell, he wasn’t furious like when he was attacking Bellatrix. Instead, Harry felt aware. He kept in mind everywhere Malfoy’s eyes glanced. If it looked to Harry’s right, then Harry moved left in time to move out of Malfoy’s line of attack. Everytime Malfoy stepped back, Harry stepped forward, and his wand kept rising higher and higher, his attacks evolving faster and faster. There was utter destruction around them and Harry was leading it. He took more with him. More. More. More. Faster, quicker, he was unstoppable.The stall doors were falling to the ground with an exploding crash, Myrtle’s voice mixed in with Malfoy’s yelling, and Harry began to move around just as wildly as his wand as he jumped, rolled, and attacked. Just as Malfoy was blasted back, Harry saw the fear transition to anger that began boiling in his enemy’s eyes, making a storm in them. Suddenly his wand was knocked out of his hand and Harry felt all his emotions rush through his body as Malfoy snarled out, “Cruci-”

 _‘Sectumsempra!’_ Harry thought as he raised his hand up with his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, sweat rolling down his neck, and legs burning. He watched with a prideful smile as Malfoy was knocked back. _‘It worked!’_ There was a second of silence before Myrtle started screaming bloody murder.

“MURDER! MURDER IN THE LAVATORY!” 

Harry couldn’t hear her at first due to the ringing in his ear until he blinked and started to breathe slowly. Soon enough, Harry heard Myrtle’s cries and noticed red slithering away from Malfoy’s body and creating pools and streams. Malfoy was…

“Oh,” Harry gasped as he got his wand and then scrambled to Malfoy’s side, checking for a pulse. It was there but at the quick rate Malfoy was losing blood, Harry feared that the Slytherin’s heart would fail. _‘What do I do? What if..what if he dies. And I get sent to Azkaban?’_

What would Harry say or do when he was being restrained and had to watch the tears stream down Hermione’s face? When Ron would be fighting for Harry’s false innocence with the Aurors, would Harry be able to tell the truth to Ron and watch Ron’s trust in him fade away? What would Harry do when Luna had to spend her next birthday alone, standing in front of a wall waiting for the right moment to go in? Would Harry be able to look into Dumbledore’s eyes and not see them twinkle as Dumbledore stared at Harry the same way he stared at Voldemort? Would Harry be able to stand in court and watch Mrs.Malfoy cry over her lost husband and dead son, knowing it was his fault that her teenage son lost his life? What would Harry do about..the diary? 

He got up with his legs feeling weak and started to scream for help too. 

Snape rushed in and stared at the bloody broken scene in horror. Then, his gaze settled on Harry and his eyes darkened. “What did you do.” 

Harry knew it wasn’t a question but rather an angry attack as Snape began to save Malfoy’s life. He watched Snape summon the blood back and made it disappear into Malfoy’s body again. He was so lightheaded and in shock that he didn’t notice he was running away until he found himself in front of the Room of Requirement with the door waiting for him there. He walked in and looked at the wardrobe. He walked to it, reached into his bag, and set the Prince’s textbook inside. Closing the wardrobe doors, he pulled out his wand and whispered. 

“Incendio.” 

It was set aflame and Harry’s cold stained hands warmed up. He looked down and cast a scourgify on himself before going back to watching the wardrobe burn, taking along the cursed book with it. As it decayed, Harry sat down. It could’ve been described as a calming beautiful feeling, being warmed up right next to the fire. But Harry wasn’t camping, he was hiding. He had almost killed someone. 

‘I didn’t mean to,” Harry said and wrapped his arms around himself. _‘I can’t let that happen again. I need to be..smarter. Better. I need to survive. I need to be good again.’_ The teenager got up and made his way to his dorms. Yet just when he was about to go in, the painting swung open and revealed McGonagall with a dark look on her face and a livid Snape behind her. 

“The Headmaster wishes to see you, Mr.Potter,” McGonagall said in a toneless voice and Harry nodded. McGonagall began to lead him away and just as the door started to close, Harry caught a glimpse of Ron hugging a crying Hermione on the couch near the fire. Harry didn’t look up from the ground and kept silent as he felt Snape’s eyes burning holes into his back. Harry was led up the stairs and was nudged into the room by Snape. Harry didn’t stumble but he quickly walked in and sat down. Fawkes flew to him and started to bump his head against Harry’s hand. 

Harry gave in and pet the phoenix. 

“I want him thrown in Azkaban,” Snape hissed out and Harry froze. Fawkes let out a soft coo and nudged its beak against Harry’s fingertips. 

“Now, Severus, I’m sure there is a good explanation on Harry’s side-” 

“Still making excuses for murder, Albus?” Harry heard Snape mutter. _‘Still?’_

“Don’t act ridiculous, Severus. Headmaster Dumbledore has never done such things and we know it. What matters here is that Mr. Malfoy makes a full recovery and that Mr.Potter gets the punishment he deserves.” 

“You’re telling me Azkaban isn’t a good enough punishment for an attempted murder, Minerva?” 

None of them said anything and Harry felt Dumbledore’s eyes on him. Fawkes kept cooing. 

“I didn’t mean to do it,” Harry said, breaking the silence. He looked up at McGonagall who looked deep into his eyes. “He just attacked me, I swear. I was defending myself. He tried to cast an unforgivable, he tried to crucio me-” 

“Lies! Draco would never-” 

“Mr.Potter, that is a serious allegation-” 

Dumbledore raised his hand and silence fell upon them again. Harry could hear how hard Snape was breathing and he looked away from McGonagall’s disappointed and stern face. _‘Figured that they wouldn’t believe me.’_

“Minerva, Severus. Please go back to your rooms. I shall take care of Harry’s punishment,” Dumbledore said calmly and Snape exploded. 

“He almost killed a student! He left them there to bleed to death, the only reason my Slytherin is alive is because I heard that ghost girl screaming for help! If I hadn’t been there, your precious Potter would’ve taken an innocent life!”

“He wasn’t innocent!” Harry yelled back, furious. “It was self defense! He was going to crucio me!” 

“You’re so dramatic, Potter, I’m sure you’d mistake a tickling charm as a killing curse!” Snape sneered back and Harry almost cursed the Professor right then and there but Dumbledore’s shaking voice stopped him. 

“Enough!” Dumbeldore hollered and Harry sat down, yanking his hair. There were tears forming in Harry’s eyes from the sheer frustration and anger coursing through his veins. McGonagall stared at her Gryffindor and watched as he slowly looked up. The air was suddenly knocked out of her as she stared into his now unrecognizable eyes that were almost glowing that reminded her too much of the infamous killing curse. Staring at her student McGonagall didn’t say goodbye as she walked away with one thought running through her mind...the way Harry had been glaring at Snape with so much hatred and annoyance in his eyes was like looking at a distorted James Potter. At that exact moment there had been not a single drop of Lily Evans or the mature James she was proud of in their son. In that moment when Harry had looked up at Snape’s figure, there was a hidden toxic desire behind those radiating emerald eyes that promised pain and things far worse that she was too terrified to think about. 

With McGonagall leaving, Snape soon followed, leaving behind Dumbledore, Harry, and Fawkes. 

“Harry,” Dumbledore sighed. “Harry, Harry, Harry. My boy..what have you done-”

Harry’s head snapped up and eyes met Dumbledore’s blue that widened. 

“It was self-defense, Professor Dumbledore,” Harry cut him off. Dumbledore’s eyes once again lost their twinkle and whatever little friendly expression Dumbledore had been wearing was dropped. “If you don’t believe me, I can’t change your mind. But I refuse to be hurt again and I refuse to do nothing if someone threatens my life.” 

“Harry-” 

“Malfoy was talking about killing someone.” At this, Harry stared at Dumbledore’s shoulders that tightened with tension and glanced down at Dumbledore’s hands that the Professor put under the desk. “He was talking about having to kill someone. I didn’t know who he was talking about so when he attacked, I thought-” 

“No, you didn’t think, Harry,” Dumbledore said sternly and met Harry’s eyes. Suddenly, Harry felt cold again. _‘But I did think…’_ Harry thought to himself. “You will serve detention with Professor Snape for the rest of the year. Is that understood, Mr.Potter?” 

“But sir, Quidditch-” 

“There are more important things to worry about than losing a few hours of Quidditch, Harry. Mr.Malfoy almost lost his life. This is no light matter.” With that, Harry just nodded and stood up. 

“Is that all, sir?” Harry said through a clenched jaw. He was clenching his fists and Dumbledore simply looked at Harry’s forehead, refusing to meet Harry’s eyes again. 

“You may go now, my boy.” 

Harry turned swiftly and walked down the stairs, down the hall, and back to the crime scene. It was quiet now that Myrtle was gone and there was not a single drop of blood anywhere. Harry shut the door quietly and walked to the sink. He leaned against it and stared at himself in the mirror. Turning the faucet, the sink began to fill up and the ringing in his ears started to come back. He began to splash water into his face and then finally dunking his whole head in before pulling back out with gasps minutes later. Slowly coming back to reality, he noticed Myrtle watching him in the same corner he had been watching Malfoy from.

“I didn’t mean to hurt him like that, Myrtle,” Harry sighed as he began to wet his hair. _‘But I did.’_ A horrible part of Harry taunted. 

“I thought I knew you, Harry Potter. But what I saw tonight? That..that wasn’t who I thought you were. You were like a monster! All Draco needed was some love,” Myrtle whispered as she flew around the room. “He was kind but he was lost! He was a good person!” Myrtle started to wail as she flew away and left Harry to stare at himself in the sink water. 

“A good person. Right,” Harry scoffed. He bit his lip. _‘Am I a good person anymore?’_ The boy began to think about the many lessons Dumbledore had given him and started to reflect on the ‘greater good’ Dumbledore had always talked to Harry about with a glorifying tone. “Is there even a greater good?” Harry said bitterly. 

Drop. 

Drop. 

Drop. 

Staring at the water that was being stained by the blood dripping down from Harry’s nose, the boy watched it taint the clarity of the water. Just like an invasive species, it spread and soon enough, all Harry could see was red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Harry, what did you do?


	5. Afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We see lots of fighting, Harry simping for Tom, and Malfoy, Hermione, and Harry crying a lot. God, that's a sentence I never thought I would ever write.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> Wow, it's been more than a month. I'm sorry for not updating fast. University is proving to be stressful and I've been trying to apply to scholarships but it's very competitive. Hopefully, I get some. :)
> 
> Anyways, here's the new chapter! This chapter was originally supposed to be 10,000 words but I was able to cover everything I needed in over 6,000. I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter! Thank you for your kudos, comments, bookmarks, and subscriptions! It really puts a big smile on my face!

The boy stared up at the painting that made him feel so small. There was no one in the hallway and all he could hear was the whispering of the surrounding art. 

“If you need to go in, just say the password, sweetie,” The Fat Lady said. 

“Valor,” Harry said and walked in, heart threatening to beat out of his chest. 

He drifted to the light of the fireplace and sat down in front of it. It was supposed to be warm but all Harry felt was cold. With hands shaking, he put them towards the fire and didn’t turn when he heard sniffling behind him. He sat in silence and waited for them to speak. When they didn’t, Harry spoke. 

“What?” He whispered. 

“What happened, Harry?” Hermione said as she walked up behind him and lay a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it away. On his other side, Ron set down a plate of treacle tarts. Harry ignored them. 

“Mate, talk to us,” Ron frowned. Harry closed his eyes and pushed his hands closer to the fire. Then, he heard it. 

Hermione’s sob. 

Startled, Harry opened his eyes and turned. Ron had a comforting arm around Hermione’s waist as she began to cry. Suddenly, his mouth went dry and he found it open with no words pouring out. Harry watched Hermione break down. ‘ _What the hell do I do?’_ Harry panicked in his head. 

“What...what’s wrong?” Harry asked awkwardly. Ron shot him a look with wide warning eyes but the boys couldn’t stop the witch from pushing the ginger away and throwing a pillow at the boy-who-lived. “Hermione!” Harry exclaimed. 

“No!” Hermione snarled out. “I..I have been worried sick! So has Ron! But you keep pushing us away-”

“Hermione,” Harry interrupted. 

“-You disappear for hours and you don’t eat-”

“Hermione,” Harry repeated. 

“-and then you try to KILL MALFOY!” 

“STOP IT!” Harry roared. Hermione’s eyes teared up more and her fists started to shake. Harry’s head was pounding and Ron was still trying to comprehend the reality of what was happening. 

“You know what?” Harry sighed. “I have better things to worry about.” 

He got up and his friends scrambled to follow with Hermione pleading after him. 

“Harry! Harry, please, just stay with us, we can help you-” 

“You have no idea what I’m going through,” Harry hissed. He kept walking to the dorms and began to gather some of his stuff. Wand, clothes, and map. ‘ _You know what? Fuck it.’_ Harry thought as he just grabbed his trunk and shoved everything he could in his school bag. He started to leave, knocking Hermione and Ron over. 

“Harry, where are you going?!” Ron shouted after him and Harry swung the portrait open before turning and glaring at them. 

“Anywhere besides here,” He replied and swung his bags over his shoulder and began to drag his trunk, Hermione’s calls for him with Ron’s cuss words echoing down the hall. But as Harry walked away from them, he felt his chest lighter than before and found breathing easier. Emerald eyes stared at the blank wall before the desired door appeared and Harry walked in. He stopped at the doorway as he scanned the room. Surprisingly. Riddle’s room looked normal with warm tones of yellow, orange, and red shining around the room from the sunlight. He sat down his stuff at the end of the bed before immediately letting himself fall onto the mattress. The pillow felt warm and the mattress wasn’t that bad compared to sleeping on the one in the Dursley’s cupboard. 

Harry shut his eyes and sleep took over. But this privilege wouldn’t last for long as he woke up hours later. He sat up and rubbed his eyes and got ready for the day. Summoning a mirror in the room, he bit his lip as he looked at his reflection. 

He looked different.

He had dark circles under his eyes and his hair had grown from the big chop he had given it one night during summer break when he had a breakdown. He vividly remembered crying as Uncle Vernon banged on the door, yelling at him to shut up as Harry’s fists clenched around the scissor blades. He kept staring at himself and took note of how pale he looked and how skinny he truly was. Turning to the side, he lifted his sweater and stared at the pale flat stomach. 

“That is not a good look,” the reflection shook his head and simply looked away when Harry cast it a dirty look. He shoved his shirt back down and huffed, annoyed. 

Harry knew that he was skinny thanks to the Dursleys, but...was it really bad? He didn’t know much about nutrition and he knew much less about proper health. Was he supposed to talk to Madam Pomfrey about this? Thinking about it, he just shook his head and grabbed his wand before leaving towards the kitchens. He wasn’t even going to bother going to the Great Hall, he knew he was going to get cornered by someone. 

_‘I’m sure if it was something bad, Madam Pomfrey would’ve talked to me about it,’_ Harry convinced himself as he tickled the potrait’s pear and walked in. His concerned inner dialogue went away when Dobby appeared in front of him with a bunch of knitted hats on. Harry felt himself smile and he chuckled when Dobby beamed up at him. 

“Mister Harry Potter has come to finally visit Dobby!” The house elf cheered and Harry leaned back against the counters. 

“Hello Dobby. How are you?” Harry smiled. Dobby looked at Harry up and down. Then, his eyes widened and he wore a worried expression. 

“Harry Potter looks awfully sick. What does Harry Potter wish to eat?” 

“Do you have any cereal?” Harry wondered and grinned when Dobby gave him some with a snap of his fingers. “Thank you!” Harry said as he dug in. Dobby watched. 

“Is..Is Harry Potter okay? Dobby has heard whispers around the castle that Harry Potter has changed,” Dobby said softly. Harry looked down at him.

“I’m fine, Dobby. No need to worry over me. Worry about yourself, okay?” Dobby didn’t say anything. “Have you been happy, Dobby?” 

“Has Harry Potter talked to his friends? They could help? ” Dobby asked and Harry grit his teeth. He set the empty bowl down and stood up straight. 

“It’s time for me to go, Dobby. I’ll be late to Transfiguration,” Harry forced himself to smile and walked away from the house elf. He made his entrance in Transfiguration and noticed he was the first student there. Taking a seat at the front, he noticed McGonagall at her desk. 

“Good morning, Professor,” He greeted, yet the mood in the room stayed the same: tense. He watched her give him a stiff nod (ignoring how much her hostility stung), and sat down. As time passed, more students trailed in and Harry pretended to not notice Hermione and Ron shuffling in and plopping themselves behind him. Soon enough, McGonagall started class but Harry noticed small little changes in her. Or specifically, changes in how his Head of House reacted around him. He noticed she took the time to distance herself from him, not look at him, not make any eye contact, and noticed how when her eyes glanced over the entire class, her hands and voice started to shake when her eyes traveled around his general location. She was...afraid. 

McGonagall was afraid of him and would avoid him at any cost. 

For her sake, Harry gazed down at his textbook for the rest of the class time instead of looking at her. When she dismissed everyone, he gathered his stuff, walked around Hermione and Ron’s worried hands and let his legs carry him to Charms. He sat in the front and just clasped his hands together, not looking around the room, not saying a word. He waited and then Flitwick’s hand was set in front of him on his desk. Harry finally looked up and smiled at his Professor. 

“Are you okay, Harry?” Flitwick asked with a frown. 

“I’m perfect, Professor,” Harry lied with a charming smile. Flitwick looked taken back for a second before his shoulders relaxed and he gave his student a relieved smile. 

“Very well. Will you join me this afternoon for your lesson?” 

Harry nodded with the same smile and watched Flitwick’s mood lighten up. The Professor soon left and the smile on Harry’s face dropped quickly. His eyes were heavy and his jaw felt sore. He rested his chin on his palm before closing his eyes and recollected himself. 

“Alright class! Let’s begin the lesson!” Flitwick said. And at the sound of papers flipping and quills scribbling, Harry started to fake kind smiles and happy eyes throughout the rest of class. At the end of class, Hermione walked up to him. 

“Harry, we need to talk,” she whispered and Harry just shook his head. “Please, Harry.” 

Harry scoffed before finally looking Hermione in the eye. 

“Why should I? I mean, no matter what I say, I know that you’ll just believe whatever McGonagall or Dumbledore have told you already. After all, I don’t think I need to tell you what happened or try to explain myself. You seemed pretty set on me being a murderer,” Harry said. Hermione shook her head and Ron walked up to them. 

“Mate, we’re your friends. We..we love you,” Ron said, putting a hand on Harry’s shoulder. As Ron laid his hand on Harry’s shoulder, Harry stared at Hermione. Not even two days had passed since Hermione had called him a murderer, yet here she was, staring up at him with her big brown eyes as if he were some pure deity. It was so easy for her to change her mind, she was so...desperate. Harry didn’t shrug Ron’s warm hand off this time. Instead, his stomach started burning with curiosity and he sat down on the desk, staring at the two who were waiting for him to say something. 

And as millions of questions ran through their heads, only a few haunted Harry. 

What did they think of him? 

Were they terrified of him like McGonagall? 

Who did they believe? Dumbledore or him?

...who were they loyal to? 

The curiosity grew and continued to burn Harry more and more. His best friends. The only two people that stood by his side since first year. (Well, besides fourth year when Ron decided to throw a little fit, upset that people weren’t trying to kill him. Git. )While he confided in them and they did the same to him. But...he had no control over them. 

He needed to test them. 

“Do you think I’m good?” Harry asked and watched them crumble before him in confusion. 

“You are, Harry,” Ron said. “You’re the best damn guy I know and we care for you. So please, just let us be there for you.” 

“I agree,” Hermione said as she rested her hand on Harry’s arm and squeezed it softly. Harry glanced at it. “Harry...you’re brave. And strong. When I think of good, I think of you. You know what to do and you...you’re a good person-” 

Hermione stopped when Harry’s head dropped down and his shoulders started to shake. 

“Mate, are you crying?” Ron asked. But Hermione let go of Harry when he looked up, as if she had been burned. 

Harry was laughing at them. 

Ron pulled Hermione away and started to gather their stuff. Hermione gaped at Harry as he calmed himself down. Her friend raised his head and met her eyes with a deadly gaze. 

“You really...don’t know me.” 

With those words, Hermione’s heart broke. She wanted to scream at Harry, tell him that she knew him. That she knew his favorite food was treacle tart, that she knew Harry liked drinking water every morning, that she knew his favorite part of the day was getting to sit in the common room with them and laugh together like a family. Another part in Hermione wanted to cry and slap Harry on the arm and chest. To get him to realize how stupid he was being and how much it was hurting her, and most importantly, Ron and his caring family. To get him to realize how many people truly loved him and that he wasn’t alone. That despite Sirius dying, Harry wasn’t alone. 

But she didn’t. 

“Fuck you,” Ron hissed as he grabbed Hermione’s arm and dragged her away from Harry’s petrifying gaze. 

“If he wants to be left alone, then fine. I’m not going to push him anymore. He can come to us when he bloody feels like it,” Ron spat out. Hermione let him tell himself that- but she knew Ron. Not even twenty-four hours would pass without Ron trying to talk to Harry again. And she would be by his side when he did. Meanwhile, Harry watched the two Gryiffindors storm away with his heart heavy. His eyes burned and Harry wanted to scream out and cry out his hurt and frustration. But he just closed his eyes and let out a shaky sigh. 

_‘If they were my true friends, they would realize I’m not good anymore,’_ Harry told himself and he picked up his bag that seemed so much more heavier now than ever before and continued his day. 

Hermione, Ron, and Harry didn’t look at each other in Potions. Or in Herbology. Or in Defense. 

Hermione and Ron stayed out of Harry’s way and Harry made no act to acknowledge them. 

He walked past them and walked into the Charms classroom where Flitwick was waiting for him. Harry stopped when he saw Dumbledore sitting across from the other man. They looked up at him and Harry almost left the moment Flitwick’s dark accusing eyes fell on his figure. 

“Mr.Potter,” Flitwick said. “Our lessons have been cancelled for the rest of the year.” 

“Why?” Harry frowned and Dumbledore stood up. 

“Because I said so, my boy. I’m afraid you have your schedule full with detentions from Snape and lessons with me,” the Headmaster explained. At the mention of the detentions, Flitwick shook his head and refused to look at Harry. Just like McGonagall. Harry straightened his back and calmly looked at Dumbledore. 

_‘He told Flitwick what happened with Malfoy.’_

“I see,” Harry replied softly. He went to leave but Dumbledore stopped him. Harry simply looked at Dumbledore’s hand and watched Dumbledore smoothly hide it when he noticed Harry looking.

“You will have your last lesson with Professor Flitwick today, my boy. I will supervise,” the old man explained. 

“That sounds fine, Professor Dumbledore,” Harry uttered as he set his stuff down and began to practice with Flitwick. 

Wand at the ready, Harry looked at Flitwick in the eye and the room grew cold. The man’s eyes were serious, dark, not at all amused or lighthearted like they usually were when Flitwick knocked Harry off his feet. Suddenly, Flitwick wasn’t teaching Harry. 

He was fighting him. 

One, two, three. It took three seconds for Flitwick to cast the first spell, triggering something in Harry. 

“Locomotor Mortis!” Flitwick cast and Harry scrambled out of the way. He looked around his surroundings. _‘He’s surrounded by useless junk, I can corner him. I just need to-’_

Harry dodged another spell. He tried to keep thinking but Flitwick wouldn’t let him. Soon enough, Flitwick was just swinging his wand in the air quickly without a word, bombarding Harry with unpredictable attacks. 

‘What the hell am I gonna do?’ Harry panicked as he ran across the room with a strong Protego shielding him from Flitwick’s fury. He took shelter behind a desk and scanned the room. Then, his eyes connected with Dumbledore’s and rage filled Harry like never before as he looked at the old man’s face. 

The man’s eyes lacked his recognizable twinkle, his fingers were interlocked tight, and lips were pursed. His back was straight and his eyes were only on Harry. He was watching Harry with a stupid look on a face that almost taunted Harry but Harry couldn’t decipher what the Headmaster was thinking. 

Harry could hear Flitwick getting closer as the desk pushed Harry up against the wall, more and more. Flitwick was moving the desk from a distance with magic...he was trying to corner the chosen one. Staring at Dumbledore as Harry heard his shoes squeak against the floor with each push of the desk, reality dawned on Harry. 

Dumbledore was watching Harry with unamused eyes because he was waiting for Harry to lose. 

He expected Harry to give up. 

He underestimated Harry. _‘Just like everyone does.’_

The boy’s hands started to shake and he gripped his wand. Just as Harry got close to the wall, he raised his feet, gripped the desk’s legs, and pushed off the wall. As soon as he got some distance away from the wall, he pushed the desk with all his might and smirked when the desk crashed onto Flitwick’s shocked figure. Harry got off the ground and began to attack Flitwick who was staring up at him with wide eyes. They battled it out and just when Flitwick thought he was going to win, Harry did something unexpected and they were back to square one. Minutes passed and both of the wizards were starting to tire as their attacks and defenses increased in speed and quantity. Flitwick raised his wand, Harry whipped his out and spat out, “Impedimenta!” 

Emerald eyes watched his victim be thrown across the floor into a corner. With a bang, Flitwick grunted as his body collided against a bunch of furniture. Harry heard Dumbledore jump to his feet and start to run to the Charms Professor’s side. 

But Harry didn’t want to stop there. 

_‘Do it,’_ A small voice in Harry’s head whispered. He tried to ignore it. _‘Prove Dumbledore wrong. Finish the job. Finish-’_

Harry shook his head and just stared at the man laying on the ground, vulnerable and in pain. But for some reason, it wasn’t enough. Seeing his professor in this twisted position wasn’t enough for Harry. 

_‘It’s only fair,’_ Harry thought to himself, _‘To make him feel the same humiliation and shame they make me feel.’_

Just as Dumbledore passed Harry, Harry made up his mind and decided to have the final laugh. 

_‘Descendo,’_ Harry thought hard, fists clenched to his sides as he pushed all his determination and power into this spell, and watched books from the bookshelf behind Flitwick fall on top of the wizard. 

Thump, thump, thump. 

Flitwick groaned as Dumbledore finally reached his side and helped him. He took the books off, casting Harry a disappointed face, and set the other man up to his feet. Flitwick stared at Harry and Harry noticed the small stream of blood dripping down on Flitwick’s forehead. 

As a kid, Dudley had always been squeamish with blood. The first time Harry’s cousin had tripped and scraped his knee, he almost fainted and started screaming that he was in urgent need of a hospital. 

“I want the best damn surgeon, daddy, mommy!” Dudley had howled as Uncle Vernon spit in Harry's face, accusing the freak of hurting his innocent kid. Because of this, Harry had always handled blood with caution and care, trying to cover up any blood in fear that someone would accuse him of something again. But as he stared at his two professors who stared at him with faces that Harry couldn’t bother caring too much about, he did nothing. 

And he felt nothing too. 

All Harry could hear was his heart thumping in his chest and the blood rushing through his veins. The adrenaline was starting to fade but Harry stood there as the blood dried on Flitwick’s skin. Harry didn’t try to cover it up. He didn’t offer to help. He just let their eyes accuse Harry of the unforgivable. 

“Mr.Potter,” Dumbledore whispered as he helped Flitwick sit down. The Headmaster reached out to Harry but Harry avoided his touch. He kept his distance. They made eye contact and Harry held his chin up high. They maintained this tension until Dumbledore broke it. 

“Good afternoon, Mr.Potter,” He whispered and Harry couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction. He didn’t care that Flitwick had been staring up at him with eyes that held a spectrum of negative emotions, he didn’t care that Dumbledore had finally given up on him. All he cared about was that he had proved Dumbledore wrong. 

Harry had won. 

“Goodbye, Professors,” Harry waved. He grabbed his bag but stopped when Flitwick spoke up. 

“Mr.Potter. I was wondering why Mr.Malfoy wasn’t in class today. He never misses it. Have you visited him yet? I know he’s quite fond of your guys’ playful fights,” Flitwick said. 

As innocent as the question may have sounded to anyone else, Harry knew the hidden message behind Flitwick’s bitter words.

He was calling Harry a coward. For not facing the consequences. For not showing regret. 

He was taunting him. 

Harry didn’t have fucking time for this bullshit. He was tired. 

“Goodnight,” Harry said coldly as he walked away from them and went straight to the Room of Requirement. The moment he walked in and slammed the door shut, his back hit the door and the sobs started to come out of Harry’s quivering lips. He slid down and hugged his knees to his chest as his entire body started to shake. 

_‘God why the fuck do I cry so much,’_ Harry critized himself. But despite being annoyed and angry at himself, the crying didn’t stop. It was like all of the stuff he hid from others just broke all of his walls and started rushing out. This continued for a while until Harry was able to drag himself to the bed and fall asleep to the sound of rain hitting Riddle’s room window. 

The following days were hell for Harry. 

He faked smiles, ignored the bushy haired girl who spent her time staring at him and the red haired boy who spent his time glaring at him, and avoided looking at the majority of his Professors. However, a new development in Harry’s life were the first years who started coming up to the chosen one with big eyes and shy questions. 

The first time it happened was the day after he had won the duel against Flitwick. A first year Gryffindor needed help with Charms. He stayed up until curfew helping her. These weird interactions with children continued as they came to him, acting as if he was their older brother or some shit. One of them even came up to him one day, crying her eyes out about bleeding all over her bed and her friends started attacking him with overwhelming questions. (Most of them worried about her dying.) Luckily, Hermione had been around and she quickly guided the girls to the bathroom and taught them whatever it was they needed much to Harry’s relief.

The most recent time a kid came up to Harry for help happened this morning in the Great Hall when Harry was eating his apple. 

“Harry?” 

He looked up and met eyes with a small Ravenclaw boy who was staring at his feet. 

“Er, yes?” Harry asked. 

The Ravenclaw stayed quiet, shy, and just focused on the floor. The Gryffindors around Harry started to whisper and Harry sighed softly. ‘Nosy bastards.’ 

The boy-who-lived placed an apple across the table, in front of the boy, and put on a small comforting smile. 

“How can I help you?” Harry said softly and watched as the Ravenclaw boy sat down and began to eat his apple. Harry noticed whenever he bit into his apple, the boy mirrored him. Amused, Harry couldn’t help but grin and he fed the boy more. He ignored the squeals from the girls around him as they fawned over how ‘cute’ he was with the kid and focused on the kid who wouldn’t leave him alone. 

“I was wondering if you could tell my crush that..that I like her,” the boy blushed and Harry stared at him. 

What kind of bloody sick joke was this? 

Harry looked at the Weasley twins who were poking and prodding at Ron who whined and glared at them. He looked back at the boy. 

“Sorry?” Harry held back a laugh as the boy pointed at some slytherin girl. She had light brown hair in a french braid, wearing nice clothes, and was reading a book to herself. She was adorable. Harry looked back at the boy and sighed. 

“No can do, bud. My love life is just as bad as yours. I’ve got no luck,” Harry sighed. The boy’s eyes widened and he teared up. 

“My love life is bad?!” The boy wailed and he started to cry. Harry immediately jumped and awkwardly looked around for help. There was none. 

“I..I didn’t mean that! I’m just saying stupid stuff, you’re fine!” Harry reassured him. He bit his lip as the kid kept crying and he almost reached over and hugged Hermione out of gratitude when she sat down to the kid and rubbed his back. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” She whispered to the boy. “What’s your name?” 

“Marco,” The boy sniffled and wiped his tears with his robe. Hermione hummed and looked at the Slytherin girl who had been sneaking glances at them. 

“You know. Gryffindors are known for being brave but that doesn’t mean a Ravenclaw can’t be,” Hermione said. Marco started to calm down and Harry just slowly started to drink his tea. 

“Look, Marco. Just...go up to her. Tell her how you feel. She seems like the girl that appreciates straightforward kinda stuff,” Harry shrugged. Hermione snorted and Harry frowned at her. 

“Yeah sure. Follow Harry’s advice that he can’t even follow himself,” Hermione rolled her eyes and hid her smile when Harry scoffed. 

“I’ll have you know that I can very well follow my own advice,” Harry replied. 

  
“Oh, you can?” 

“Yes, Hermione. I can.” 

“I have two words for you, Harry,” Hermione teased and Harry glared. 

“What?”

“Cho Chang.” 

Harry paused. 

“Shut up, Hermione,” Harry said as he bit a chunk out of his apple. Hermione and Marco giggled at Harry. Harry stared down at his hands as Hermione comforted Marco. Soon enough, Marco walked over to the Slytherin table and sat next to the now blushing girl. Harry said nothing as he felt Hermione’s eyes on him. 

“Harry,” Hermione said. 

“Stop. Stop it. No, I don’t have to explain myself to you. I don’t owe you anything,” Harry immediately replied as he began to pack his stuff. 

“Harry-” Hermione tried again but Harry cut her off. 

“How about you go back to Ron? You seemed pretty content by his side,” Harry shrugged. Hermione slammed her back down on the table and glared up at him. 

“Harry James Potter, you sit down right now and let me talk to you!” She hissed. 

“Nope,” was all Harry said as he started to walk away. But this time, Hermione followed him. They walked to the wall hiding the Room of Requirement when Hermione grabbed Harry’s shoulder and turned him around roughly. 

“Ow!” Harry exclaimed as he rubbed his shoulder. 

“Just let me talk!” Hermione sighed and Harry almost said no but the tired look on her face made him hesitate. 

“Fine,” Harry mumbled. 

“I love you, Harry,” Hermione said. “I love you so much and I’m worried about you. And..and you’re right. You have the right to push us away. You’re grieving and yes, I will never understand what you’re going through right now but Harry, please, let me be by your side. You can ramble, you can cry, you can do what you want but just...let me stay with you.” 

With each word, Harry’s chest tightened. He looked up and tried to stop himself from crying in front of Hermione. After a minute, he looked down at her and just sighed out, “I’m bad.” 

“What?” Hermione frowned, confused. Harry chuckled a little before running his hands through his hair. 

“I’m a bad person, ‘Mione. I..I almost killed Malfoy. I almost attacked Snape. I attacked Flitwick. I fought with Dumbledore. I’m fucking starting to reconsider my thoughts on Tom Riddle and I feel bad for him and I’m just a bad fucking person,” Harry rambled out. “Oh my fucking god, that feels good to finally let out again.” 

Harry stared at Hermione’s wide eyes. 

“Hermione?” 

“Tom Riddle?” Hermione whispered and Harry burst out laughing. Hermione watched as Harry clutched his sides as he hollered in laughter. He began to wipe his tears and grin at her. 

“I..I tell you I almost killed someone and that I’ve hurt people and the thing you focus on is Tom Riddle?” Harry grinned. Hermione hesitated and crossed her arms as she stared down at him. 

“...Tom Riddle is a psychopath who turned into a magical Hitler who ruined your life, so yeah, I’m a bit more concerned over you feeling sympathy for Tom Riddle, Harry,” Hermione frowned. Harry stopped. 

“Well when you put it like that, you make me sound really fucked up,” Harry replied. Silence stayed between them and then Harry started to laugh again. “Yeah, that sounds really fucked up.” 

Another moment of silence. 

“I miss Sirius,” Harry finally let out. Hermione’s eyes softened and she wrapped an arm around Harry’s waist and hugged him close. 

“I know you do, Harry,” She said as she rubbed his back. As Harry hugged her back, he realized that he was warm, something he hadn’t been in a while. They stayed like that. Harry cried into her hair and she just rubbed his back, whispering comforting words in his ear as he started to shake. 

‘I need him here, Hermione. He would understand, he would help me. He loved me, Hermione,” Harry cried and she nodded, thinking to herself. Then, Harry stopped and pulled away. With wide eyes, he put his hands on Hermione’s shoulders and began to shake her slightly. 

“You’re the smartest witch I know. If..If Voldemort can live no matter how many times he supposedly dies for some bloody reason, we..we can too, right?” Harry said. Hermione froze. ‘We can..we can find a way to bring Sirius back, right? I mean, what..what if the Veil was a portal?” 

“Harry, no...the veil-” 

“Hermione, please. We have to try. We have to. I have to. For Sirius. Hermione, no one knows what the Veil can do so what if he’s on the other side, waiting? You don’t know, I don’t know, Dumbledore doesn’t fucking know. We have to try-” 

“Fine!” Hermione gave in. Harry stared at her. “Fine, we can..we can try. But Harry, I can’t guarantee anything.” Harry ignored her as he pulled her in for a tight hug. 

“Thank you,” Harry mumbled as he pulled away slowly and stared down at Hermione. 

“C’mon, Harry. We have to get to class,” Hermione smiled. Harry shook his head. 

“Can’t. Dumbledore pulled me in for today. Said something about not wanting to bother me at night,” Harry tried to cover up his bitter tone but Hermione noticed like she always did. She didn’t say anything about it, something Harry was grateful for. Harry walked her quickly to class and said his goodbye. 

“Good luck. I’ll see you later, Harry,” Hermione said as she waved bye to him. Once she went in, Harry started to walk to the Headmaster’s office. Fawkes immediately flew to Harry’s side and began to bump its head against Harry’s soft hands, like normal. Harry smiled down at the phoenix as he raked his fingers on the top of its small head and watched it to coo at him. 

“Ah yes. Fawkes has missed you a lot, Mr.Potter,” Dumbledore said from behind him and Harry ignored him. His attention was strictly on the bird who was becoming very greedy for attention and care from the busy boy. “How have you been?” 

Harry said nothing. 

“Professor Flitwick is fine, if you were worried about him.” 

‘I wasn’t,’ Harry wanted to say but he kept his mouth shut. Dumbledore walked past him slowly and took his place in front of Harry, sitting down and folding his arms to stare at Harry. 

‘It’s astonishing...how much a person can change. They become almost...unrecognizable,” Dumbledore whispered. Harry grit his teeth. “Sometimes, one does not even wish to call them the same person anymore.” 

Harry was sure that even if he managed to pluck Dumbledore’s eyes out of their sockets and threw them into the forbidden forest, they would still find a way to stare at him with an accusing gaze and follow him around the castle. 

“It’s a real shame when it happens, isn’t it?” Harry replied and smiled when Dumbledore tilted his head at him. 

“What did I show you in the last lesson?” Dumbledore asked as he got the pensieve ready. 

“It was the conversation between Tom and the Gaunt family,” Harry responded. Dumbledore hummed and filled with pensieve with another memory. 

“This memory was plucked from Professor Slughorn, Harry,” Dumbledore said. Harry perked up, slightly interested. What interaction between Tom and the Professor was so important that Dumbledore had to show him in a private lesson? 

They were transported into the memory and Harry’s world went almost dark. They were in the dungeons and class had just been dismissed. Dumbledore watched Slughorn while Harry watched Tom. 

He looked..the same. He looked like the same boy who Harry had talked to in the second year. And as much as Harry hated to admit, Tom was very handsome. 

Very handsome. 

Very. 

His eyes were blue but also dark at the same time, such a strange combination that left Harry staring as he tried to figure it out. His neat curls were combed and styled well, making Tom look composed and effortless. His strong jawline and high cheekbones framed his face well and his long fingers smoothed out the wrinkles on his well fitted school clothes. 

Harry really, really wanted to hate Tom Riddle. 

“Professor?” Tom’s smooth voice brought Harry out of his thoughts. He stood up from his seat and Harry noticed how tall Tom truly was compared to Harry’s skinny, small figure. Memory Slughorn turned around and beamed at Tom. He laughed and clapped Tom in the back and grinned at him. 

“Job well done today in class, Tom. You always manage to impress me. And dare I say it? You somehow always teach me something I don’t know. You’re destined for greatness, Tom. Greatness.” 

Tom smiled as Harry frowned. 

“I was actually curious. I’ve been doing a research project and I’ve stumbled across a mysterious topic of interest,” Tom said as he leaned against the desk and stared at Memory Slughorn who began to put potion ingredients away. 

“Yes, of course you can ask me! Anything for you, Tom,” Memory Slughorn smiled. 

“I was wondering if you could tell me more about horcruxes, Professor,” Tom asked. Harry almost jumped when he heard a crash and saw glass shards scattered on the dungeon floor. Tom stared at the Professor who was shaking and was having difficulty breathing. 

“Are you okay, sir?” Tom frowned and Memory Slughorn let out a painful whimper. 

“How do you know of such dark things, my boy?” The Potions Master whispered and Tom stared at him. 

“I was simply curious, Professor. My alchemy book mentioned it since I’ve been studying other topics related to Ancient Runes,” Tom explained perfectly and Harry almost believed him but from Dumbledore’s dark look, he figured that Tom was lying. 

“Do not ever let me hear you mention those things again!” Slughorn said seriously. Tom looked slightly taken back and Harry frowned and stepped closer to Tom. He ignored Dumbledore’s watchful and criticizing eyes. “I do not know anything about them! Now leave!” 

Tom turned and Harry stared up at him. For a split second, it looked like Tom had made eye contact. Harry reached out and-

They were back. 

Harry let his hand fall and he sat down. Fawkes asked for attention and Harry simply gave it without a word. 

“That was Lord Voldemort learning of horcruxes for the first time,” Dumbledore said and Harry almost wanted to retort back “Tom” but he just bit his lip and leaned back into the chair. 

“What are horcruxes?” Harry asked and Dumbledore sat down and looked at Harry with haunted eyes. 

“They’re vessels used to store a magic user’s soul, Harry. They’re a way to become..immortal. To supposedly ‘overcome’ death,” Dumbledore revealed and Harry held himself back from asking more questions. 

‘A way to overcome death…’ Harry thought. ‘If there’s a way to overcome it...then I was right. There could be a chance to bring him back.’ Suddenly, Harry wanted to leave and go do some research. If he could bring Sirius back then...everything would be perfect. 

“That caught your eye, didn’t it?” The Headmaster hummed. Harry’s eyes snapped up to him and he just nodded. 

“It’s an interesting idea. I have to admit,” Harry shrugged. Dumbledore shook his head and stared down at his hands. 

“The creation of a horcrux is a vile act. The most evil of them all. The magic ritual in creating a horcrux comes with a huge sacrifice that creates it the most terrible magic of all, my boy,” the man explained and Harry frowned. “Lord Voldemort-” 

“Tom.” 

Dumbledore stared at Harry who had cut him off. “Excuse me?” Dumbledore asked. 

“His name is Tom. And frankly, I understand why he’s so worried about death, Professor,” Harry said, standing his ground. “He was in a vulnerable spot for attacks during World War Two and he wasn’t allowed to perform magic to save himself because of the abusive muggles around him, so yeah, I think his fear of death and attachment to powerful magic is completely understandable, sir.” Dumbledore said nothing as Harry walked out of the room and began to wander around the castle’s halls. 

_‘Tom was there...he was actually there. And he was staring at me. He looked so real,’_ Harry reflected and found himself standing in front of the infirmary. 

Throughout the week, he had thought of visiting Malfoy with the cloak. And bloody hell, did Flitwick’s stupid question bother Harry for hours. It was like whenever Harry finally had time for himself, Flitwick’s stupid accusation of calling Harry a coward would taunt him for hours. He ignored it and really thought he wouldn’t see Malfoy but here he was, walking into the infirmary now, with intent to face the consequences. 

Malfoy laid there, asleep. As Harry got closer and he kept staring at the teenage Slytherin, he couldn’t help but notice how peaceful Malfoy seemed. Harry pulled a seat right in front of Malfoy’s softly snoring face and the Gryffindor relaxed. Harry stayed there, listening to the ticking of the clock as he thought of what he could say to his nemesis. Harry stayed there for Merlin knows how long, just staring at Malfoy. Soon enough, it was night time and Harry pulled out a quill and parchment paper piece from his bag and began to write. 

He settled the note on Malfoy’s bedside table and pulled out some of Luna’s pudding, setting it next to the note, and Harry left. 

When Malfoy woke up and read the chicken scratch that he knew belonged to Potter.

_I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you in person but you never woke up. I got some pudding from Luna, it tastes good. -Harry._

Malfoy couldn’t help but smile at Potter’s foolishness. He grabbed the pudding from Lovegood and dug in. With the first bite, he bit his lip that began to shake and he tried to stop himself from breaking down.

It tasted like his parent's favorite tea. 

Malfoy began to cry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the support! I'll try to update as soon as possible! :)


	6. Bitter Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry goes to Slughorn's party and cracks a bunch of jokes with Hermione. Later, he finds Malfoy arguing with Snape and then bam, Harry finds himself in a screaming match with Ron with the twins chanting behind them. 
> 
> Man, Harry just wants to sleep. 
> 
> Also, what is up with Riddle being on Harry's mind 24/7? (Harry's such a simp. )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! It's been a while! I know I don't have a confirmed update schedule, which sucks, but things are kinda chaotic haha. Sorry for the long wait for this chapter! Finals are coming up and I stayed up until 3 in the morning to write this chapter for y'all!! <3
> 
> I hope you like it! Hopefully I can update soon. Please, leave a comment and some kudos lol. I'm really sleepy and it would make my day!! Thank you all for the support! Any type of feedback is welcome!

Harry flipped the page as he mumbled under his breath: “No, no, no.” 

After a few minutes of finding basically nothing useful, Harry threw the book and ran his hands through his thick, jet black hair. He felt Hermione’s hand on his back and he just sat there, wallowing in his misery. 

“Harry, it’s only been a week,” Hermione muttered as she sat next to him and let Harry rest his head on her shoulder. 

After visiting Malfoy in the infirmary, Harry had devoted the following week finding a way to bring Sirius back. He flipped through endless books, carefully reading the text in hopes that “resurrection” or “the veil” would stop his eyes and give him a realistic way of bringing his dreams to life. But as him and Hermione sat in the library provided by the Room of Requirement, Harry only found himself becoming more desperate in a bad way. He didn’t focus on anything else and he couldn’t even bring himself to eat or drink anything. When Hermione forced him to, everything tasted like nothing, and when Hermione convinced Harry to do homework, he sat in his chair staring at the fireplace for hours instead. He always finished it of course but he wouldn’t tell Hermione the truth of how he had pulled an all nighter to do it sometimes. 

“Yeah...yeah, you’re right,” Harry sighed again and just bit his lip, digging his nails into his palms. 

“Are you ready for tonight?” Hermione asked and Harry frowned. _‘Tonight?’_

“Slughorn’s party?” Hermione continued with an amused voice and Harry immediately sat up, eyes wide. 

“Luna!” Harry exclaimed as he scrambled to his feet. He shoved his stuff into his bag, including the invisibility cloak just in case, and ran out the room. He ran all the way to the Ravenclaw dorms and scowled when he came face to face with the Dorm’s painting. 

“In order to pass, you must solve this riddle. What-” 

To Harry’s relief, Luna swung open the common room doors and walked out. She smiled at him. 

“Harry! What a pleasant surprise! You’re right on time. I was just about to go find you so that we could go shopping,” Luna said. _‘Shopping?’_

“Where?” Harry asked. 

“We’re going to Hogsmeade! I got special permission from Professor Slughorn a few days ago. I explained that you needed some clothes and he gave me a slip and portkey to go today,” Luna explained as they reached the outskirts of Hogwarts. She got out a pocket watch and handed it to Harry. He examined it. “Oh! Professor Slughorn was also kind enough to donate a few galleons. He said to find a nice matching accessory set for the both of us to wear. Such a kind act, right Harry?” 

Harry nodded and jumped when Luna pointed her wand at him. He instinctively reached for his and stared at Luna as she began to smile. 

“Hold still! I want to show you something cool I found!” 

“Er, Luna, I don’t think that’s a good idea-” 

She cast some unfamiliar spell and Harry’s eyes began to water uncontrollably, as if he had just cut an onion. 

“Gah! Luna, what the hell?” Harry groaned as he covered his face. Luna rubbed his back and she carefully pulled his hands away from his face. Harry felt her take the glasses off of his face and he looked up at her confused before gasping in shock. 

He could see her clearly. 

Harry could see Luna. 

  
Without his glasses. 

What the fuck?

“What did you do?” Harry gasped as his eyes danced around the room and tried to look at everything. 

“I found a spell in my healing textbook that fixes eyesight! It’s nice, isn’t it?” Luna hummed. 

“Brilliant.” 

They traveled to Hogsmeade and upon arrival, Luna immediately began to drag Harry everywhere. Harry simply let her as she began to admire the different clothes, talking about the texture, material, and quality of it. Harry just gave her a thumbs up whenever she asked for his opinion and smiled when she beamed at him. They stayed there until Merlin knew how long and by the time Luna and Harry walked out of a clothing store, it was starting to get dark out. The street lights were illuminating the alleys and pathways, and the stars were just beginning to twinkle in the sky. They walked slowly up the main road, staring up at the sky. Suddenly Luna stopped and stared at the rings set up in a row, shining bright behind the window of a store to their left. 

“Do you like jewelry, Harry?” Luna asked. 

Harry thought about it for a second. “I’ve never really had any.” 

With that, Luna walked into the store and let Harry follow her in. She walked to the jewelry section and began to analyze the rings and necklaces. She let her fingers glide against the wooden shelves. Then they stopped at a pair of matching leather necklaces with emerald stones encased with gold. Luna admired them for a good minute before taking them to the cashier and handing over the money Slughorn had given them. With a wave goodbye to the nice lady cashier, they departed and returned back to Hogwarts. 

“So, how’s your research going, Harry?” Luna asked and Harry was startled. 

“How do you know about that?” Harry frowned. 

“You're incredibly...predictable, Harry,” Luna mused and silence fell upon them again as Harry thought to himself. “Also, Hermione has been spending more time in the library than usual. I figured you asked her for a favor.”

“Well...I can’t find anything in the Room,” Harry admitted quietly and Luna simply hummed in response. She didn’t ask what he was searching for specifically, instead striking small conversation about some magical animals instead. A small bitter part in Harry told him that Luna wasn’t interested in helping him. That she could care less about bringing Sirius back. But Harry just ignored this small voice. They entered the castle and started to get ready for Slughorn’s party. Luna dressed Harry in black slacks and rich, deep purple dress robes. She even tried to style his hair and sighed when she failed. 

“It truly has a mind of its own!” Luna muttered and Harry just grinned, rolling his eyes. In the end, she simply parted his hair slightly to the side. And just when Harry thought she was done with him, she brought out a weird black tube and a long black stick that looked like a pencil. She patted the bed, twisting the black tube’s top and pulling out a weird brush. Harry’s eyes widened. 

“What the bloody hell is that?!” Harry gasped as he moved away from it quickly and watched Luna giggle at him. 

“Mascara, you silly! And this,” She held up the weird pencil,” is eyeliner. It’ll help your eyes pop.” 

After a couple of minutes fighting, Luna managed to win and Harry had to sit still as she tortured him. 

“What’s the point of fixing my eyes if you’re going to stab them out!” Harry hissed and sighed when Luna ignored him. Soon enough, she finished with a satisfied smile and summoned a mirror. Harry stared at himself and began to touch his face. His eyes were outlined with the slightest bit of black and his eyelashes were longer than before. Harry couldn’t tell if his eyes looked darker or greener and as he stared at himself in the mirror, but he began to really like how he looked. It reminded him of Bill, who just laughed at his mom when she scoffed at his leather clothes and rock aesthetic. Harry couldn’t help but think he was kinda like Bill right now: cool. He waited for Luna to get ready and when she walked out in her silver dress and jacket and gave Harry a twirl as he grinned at her. 

“How do I look?” Luna asked. 

“Brilliant,” Harry said with a small smile. Luna put on her necklace and let Harry put on his and they made their way to Slughorn’s, laughing at every first year who got stuck under the mistletoe. 

It was busy when they got there. 

People were roaming about everywhere and Harry had no idea where to start walking about. As he stood there, he felt Luna slowly drag him around the crowd. People moved out of their way and if Luna could hear the whispers around them, she acted as if she didn’t. Harry stayed quiet as she led them near the punch bowl. Luna sniffed the room and then shook her head. 

“Don’t drink the punch, it’s been tampered with,” She said. 

“How do you know?”

Luna simply pointed at a boy that was standing next to the punch bowl. He was stumbling slightly and pointing his wand at anyone who got near the bowl, hunching himself over it. 

“Oh,” Harry grinned as he watched a girl scramble away from the drunken person. “Wonder if Slughorn has noticed.” Behind him, he heard the potions professor call out his name. “Ah, apparently not.” 

“Harry!” Slughorn smiled, walking to Harry and laying a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “I’m so glad you could come! And Ms. Lovegood! What a pleasure to see you here!” 

Luna smiled and looked at Harry. “I’ll be back, Harry. While I’m gone, how about you try and find someone that can help you with your research?”

Slughorn perked up as Luna walked away, looking at Harry with excited eyes. “Research, Harry? What kind? Oh, there’s many people here who dedicate themselves to new discoveries!” 

As Harry watched Luna lean against the wall and smile at him in the corner of his eye, he slowly smiled back. She was giving him the perfect opportunity to find some ways to bring Sirius back; so she did care. Harry looked back at Slughorn and smiled charmingly. “I’ve been...looking at some alchemy and even some ancient runes.” 

Slughorn grinned, “So you’ve been attempting to get back in contact with our origin and old magic? I will have to admit that there were some incredibly powerful magic spells and rituals in the old days. But those have been deemed far too complex with dangerous consequences. However, I admire your interest in ancient magic as long as you’re not actively partaking in it, Harry!” Slughorn laughed nervously and Harry chuckled. 

“Of course I won’t perform ancient magic, Professor. Majority of it is considered dark magic. It would be… bad for me to do it,” Harry replied, comforting the Potions Professor who visibly relaxed and gave Harry a grateful look. 

“You’re a wise young man, Harry. Your future is bright,” Slughorn praised and Harry shook his head. 

“It’s all thanks to people like you, sir,” Harry replied. Slughorn’s ears went red and he laughed, squeezing Harry’s shoulder. Harry just smiled and allowed Slughorn to introduce him to people. He shook their hand, smiled the entire time, laughed whenever they cracked a joke, and watched them relax under his gaze. He took note of the people who came up to him eagerly and made note of the people who stayed away from him. It seemed as if forever had passed but despite all of these interactions with so many people, no one had the stuff Harry was looking for. 

Harry smiled softly at the woman who was currently rambling about her own research. 

His eyes trailed throughout her face, taking note of the way her skin pulled her neck. How tight her face was and how big her grin seemed. Her eyes were wide open, showcasing brown eyes that would dance around the room as her voice shook with excitement. Her brown, soft hair that was tied up in a ponytail swayed from side to side as she nodded her head and waved her hands in the air. Harry’s ears perked up as her soft laughter filled the air. The lady continued to talk and turned her head as someone called out her name. Harry stared at her neck. Peeking just underneath her pearly white collar was a bruise. 

Harry’s eyes followed hers and saw a man who was walking towards them. He was tall and had a confident stride as he casually greeted people who stepped up to him. He seemed to almost dance through the crowd before reaching the lady Harry had been talking to. The man smiled down at her and slowly laid a hand on the back of her neck before pulling her in for a kiss. Someone next to them whistled but Harry noticed the lady’s inability to look into the man’s eyes when he pulled away. She looked down, closing her eyes and faking a smile as the man’s hand slowly moved and rested against her back.  
  


“Hello,” the man greeted Harry with a charming face and voice. Harry smiled back and shook the man’s hand when the man had immediately extended it. “I see you’ve met my lovely, lovely wife, Evangeline.” 

“Yes, she’s quite lively,” Harry mused and watched the man chuckle. Evangeline never looked up. 

“You think so?” The man grinned. 

“Er, yeah,” Harry frowned and watched the man’s grip tighten slightly around his wife’s waist. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid I don’t know your name, sir. What is it?” 

“Harry!” He heard Hermione call out from behind him, interlocking her arm around his. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you like crazy!” 

Harry smiled and turned to face her and stopped, looking at her up and down. 

“What?” Hermione frowned. 

“You look lovely, Hermione,” Harry grinned and watched his friend’s cheeks grow red and she smiled at him. 

“Thanks. Ginny helped me pick it out,” Hermione said and looked at Evangeline and the strange man. “I’m sorry for interrupting your conversation with Harry but I’m afraid this is an emergency.” 

The mysterious man shook his head, “It’s okay, Miss. I understand. Say goodbye to Mr. Potter and his friend, Evangeline.” Evangeline looked up and said her goodbye to Harry, ignoring Hermione as her husband led her away. 

“Harry, c’mon, this is important,” Hermione said as she began to drag him to the back of the room. 

“I kinda have a list of important stuff to do Hermione, I think you’ll have to wait until I’m done with Dumbledore. Or maybe after Voldemor-”

“Oh shut it, Harry.” 

Once they were in the back, alone, Hermione sighed. “I think Romilda Vane is gonna try and drug you with a love potion. I overheard her talking about it!” 

“Huh. You know, I’m kinda surprised but also not at the same time, which is very confusing,” Harry answered, leaning against the wall and leaning his head back too. 

“Harry-” Hermione sighed but Harry continued. 

“I figured you would tell me there’s a vampire here. Or maybe something more dangerous. I mean, I’ve faced so many things at this school. A basilisk…” 

“Harry-” 

“Dementors. Dragons. Voldemort,” Harry hummed. Hermione rolled her eyes. 

“Harry-” 

“Hey, do you think I can add Snape to the list of dangerous things that I’ve faced or do you think that’s insulting?” 

“Of course it’s insulting Harry, you’ve listed magical creatures and a Dark Lord!” Hermione scolded and Harry nodded in agreement. 

“Yeah, comparing Snape to those things is pretty bad. I mean, it’s not like they actively decided to join a terrorist group,” Harry acknowledged and groaned slightly when Hermione smacked him in the back of the head. “Sorry, ‘Mione. I’ll shut up. For now.” 

“Okay, first of all, there are vampires here,” Hermione told him and Harry raised his eyebrows, immediately scanning the room eagerly. “Second of all, what happened to your glasses!” 

“Oh! Luna taught me this cool spell, it fixes your eyesight!” Harry beamed and watched as Hermione stared at him, surprised. 

“I’ve never heard of it,” Hermione admitted to herself. “Is it permanent?” 

“Er, good question-” 

“Nevermind. I’ll ask Luna about it,” The girl said before suddenly getting a serious look on her face. “But Harry, I’m serious, you need to be careful with Romilda. If I were you, I would go straight to Professor McGonagall.”

“Are you sure she’s trying to give _me_ a _love_ potion?” Harry asked, unsure. “I mean, I wouldn’t see why she really would, I’m pretty much bad luck as a person.” 

“Harry, I’m serious!” Hermione exclaimed, exasperated. Harry stayed quiet for a few moments, thinking to himself. He turned his face to look at the bushy haired girl. 

“Well then that’s great, isn’t it? Someone likes me a lot for once and isn’t trying to kill me,” Harry shrugged and groaned in pain again when Hermione smacked his head. “Stop it!” 

“I’ll stop when you stop treating this like a joke! I’ve heard Romilda talk about you before, she’s only interested in you because she thinks you’re the Chosen One,” Hermione explained. She glared when Harry chuckled. 

“But I _am_ the Chosen One.” 

She smacked him again. 

“Ow! Sorry,” Harry muttered, moving away from her slightly. He watched as Hermione’s eyes softened and she moved to stand next to him, leaning against the wall with him. They watched everyone for a bit when suddenly the door swung upon and Filch limped his way in, dragging Malfoy along. Harry and Hermione perked up. Malfoy was glaring at the caretaker and sneering at him, cheeks flushed in embarrassment. 

“Let go of me!” Malfoy snarled, pushing Filch away. Slughorn quickly made his way to them, slight panic etched across his face. 

“What is going on here?” Slughorn asked, tone expressing his slight annoyance that his party was being interrupted. 

“Found this boy sneaking around, babblin’ about some party he was supposedly invited to,” Filch curled his lips, practically spitting his words out. Slughorn looked at Malfoy and sighed. 

“Mr.Malfoy,” Slughorn began but was interrupted as another figure walked in and stood behind Malfoy, setting a firm hand on the Slytherin’s shoulder. “Severus!” Slughorn said, eyebrows raised. “You told me you were busy tonight- that you couldn’t make it.” 

Snape simply looked down at Malfoy and said, “I was. Until I heard a commotion in the halls, only to see my very own Slytherin being dragged in here.” Malfoy’s face went red again but he refused to look at Slughorn or Snape. Instead, the blond headed boy scanned the room before letting his eyes land on Harry. Slowly, the sneer slipped off of his face and Malfoy and Harry stared at each other from across the crowded room. Harry bit his lip, curious about what was happening, and Malfoy’s eyes seemed to widen before he looked away quickly. Harry and Hermione watched Snape lead Malfoy out of the room with Slughorn gladly going back to his own guests. 

“Wonder what that’s all about,” Hermione said. She turned to Harry and immediately frowned at him. “Harry, stop, you have that look on your face that you always have before you do something reckless.” 

“What you call reckless I call necessary, ‘Mione,” Harry replied. “I’ll be right back. Go talk to Luna, yeah?” He didn’t bother to stay and hear what Hermione was going to say back. The boy walked out of the party, swinging his cloak on once no one was around. Turning the corner, he found who he was looking for. Snape was scolding Malfoy while Malfoy was standing up against the corridor wall. 

“With the way you’ve been acting, you are going to get caught,” Snape warned, glaring down at the younger boy. “I made a promise. An unbreakable vow with your mother that I would take care of you-- keep you safe. But you’ve been running around like a fool, grabbing the attention of others, and acting like the idiot that Potter is!” 

“I am not an idiot!” Malfoy retorted, walking away from Snape. 

“Don’t you walk away from me,” Snape said in a low, dangerous voice. Malfoy turned and scoffed at the Professor. Harry sneaked his way closer, trying to hear them better. 

“You have no idea what I’m going through,” Malfoy snapped. “I have a plan and I’m sticking to it. It will work. It has to!” Malfoy sighed and repeated, “It has to.” 

Snape said nothing to him for a few seconds, staring at Malfoy with what seemed to be concern. “Come, Draco. Let’s finish this discussion in my office.” They left, leaving Harry behind with thoughts racing through his head. What was Malfoy talking about? Why did he need it to work? For what reason would Snape make a Vow? Most importantly, if Snape had made a Vow to protect Malfoy...then what dangerous things was Malfoy devoting himself to? Harry tucked away the cloak into his bag and made his way back to the party. Laughter and chatter filled the air and Harry searched for Hermione and Luna. While he only found Luna, McLaggen stormed up to him with a pissed off face. 

“Have you seen Hermione?” McLaggen asked.

“Only saw her for a few minutes but that was a while ago,” Harry shrugged before letting McLaggen walk away. Harry went to Luna and watched her play with her matching necklace. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Luna smiled. “Just a bit bored.” Harry hummed and looked around the room. 

“I heard there’s vampires here. Have you talked to them yet?” Harry grinned and Luna let out a small laugh. 

“Yeah. They’re not that interesting though,” Luna said. “Can we leave instead?” 

Harry walked Luna back to her dorm after giving his goodbye to Slughorn (who tried his best to convince Harry to stay but Harry managed to escape). 

“So, Hermione had some questions about the spell you used on my eyes.” 

“I can deal with her tomorrow. She left soon after you did since Cormac McLaggen began looking for her,” Luna replied. They stopped in front of the Ravenclaw’s common room painting. “Thank you for tonight, Harry! I had lots of fun with you.” 

“Of course, Luna. Thanks for coming with me. And for the necklaces,” Harry smiled. 

“Oh! These aren’t normal necklaces, by the way,” Luna held up hers. “These are amulets. They’re made for protection. You can add stuff to them if you want, make them more useful. That’s why they were somewhat expensive,” Luna explained and Harry touched his own, very interested. 

“Oh, brilliant!” He grinned. “Also, uh, is that spell you did on my eyes permanent?” Luna nodded. “Brilliant!” 

“Goodnight, Harry!” Luna waved before disappearing behind her portrait. Harry walked around the castle before stopping in front of the Room of Requirement’s door that appeared before him. He opened it and took in the usual scene. Riddle’s old room. Harry sat down on the creaky, small bed. He pulled the familiar, infamous diary out from his bag and read more entries. 

With every flip of a page, anger boiled inside of Harry. With every new entry, Riddle talked about exciting new discoveries and his life being affected by the war. But what really pissed Harry off was how bloody controlling Dumbledore was with Riddle. Whenever Tom would do anything, Dumbledore would somehow always know about it and would almost attempt to interrogate the teenager. Many, many times.

Time passed by and Harry soon found himself stroking the pages of the old diary. The paper’s texture was smooth and felt nice under his touch The hard leather cover seemed to entrance Harry as he glided his fingertips across its surface. How much time did Tom spend writing his secret thoughts into this trusted diary? Did he carry it around everywhere he went, or did he hide it in a well thought out hiding spot? What would Riddle say or even do if he saw Harry, his enemy, his equal, reading such private material? 

What would Tom do when he realized Harry wasn’t judging him? 

What would Tom do when he realized Harry was relating to him? 

“What am _I_ doing?” Harry sighed to himself, laying down. The sunlight that once had been dancing across the diary’s open pages slowly dimmed, changing the room’s color from yellow to a grey. Harry closed his eyes and heard the soft thumps of the rain against the window and wall. “This isn't right. It’s not even close to being okay but...I can’t stop this.” 

_‘I can’t stop thinking about him,’_ Harry thought to himself. He raised his hand into the air and began to think back on Slughorn’s memory that Dumbledore had shown him last week. He had seen Tom. He had actually been standing there. 

“What would he do…” Harry whispered. Harry curled his fingers and imagined they were curled around Tom’s tie, pulling him close and speaking to him with soft words. 

“I read your diary,” Harry could see himself whispering into Tom’s ear. He could imagine Tom pulling away and staring down at the Chosen One. Tom’s blue eyes would meet Harry’s emerald ones and time would stop. Harry’s hand would perfectly fit around Tom’s high cheekbones, cupping them, like puzzle pieces. He would feel Tom’s warm face that would grow warmer as he contemplated what to do about Harry reading his diary. Then, the Slytherin’s lips would curl up into a small smile and he would lean in closer. He’d open his mouth and say… 

“Fuck!” Harry gasped, sitting up immediately. He didn’t notice how he had been holding his breath. He could feel his heart beating fast and Harry licked his lips. 

_‘This needs to stop.’_

Grabbing his stuff, Harry abandoned the room and made his way to the Gryffindor common room. When he walked in, he stopped when he saw Ron sitting in front of the fire. Harry walked to the red head slowly and stood near him. 

“It’s late. You should go to bed, Ron,” Harry said. Ron suddenly got up and pushed Harry, eyes almost glowing just like the fire. Something in Harry ignited and threatened to burn more. 

“Really, mate? You act like a bloody prick, pushing Hermione and I away, taunting us and saying we’re not your friends, and now you’re trying to tell me what to do!” Ron hollered and Harry’s hands clenched into fists. 

“It was a bloody suggestion, you git!” Harry snarled. Ron whipped out his wand but Harry was quicker, slashing his hand through the air, disarming the other boy. Ron watched his wand fly across the common room and he looked back at Harry with wide eyes. 

“You can do wandless magic?” Ron asked. 

“No, Ronald. It was just the wind,” Harry lied and watched Ron’s face turn as red as his hair. Ron charged at him and Harry quickly stepped to the side, letting Ron crash onto the ground. Behind him, he heard the sound of footsteps running down the stairs from the dorm rooms. He heard Hermione’s gasp and the twins’ chants of “Fight! Fight! Fight!” behind him, encouraging him. 

Telling him to keep going. 

So Harry did. 

He whipped out his wand and stared at Ron, who had managed to get up. His once best friend turned and glared at the boy-who-lived. 

“Fuck you!” Ron roared, causing some people to gasp. “Fuck you and your stupid god complex!” He gaped at Harry when Harry began to laugh, gasping for air in between cackles. 

“Fuck me?!” Harry jeered. He pointed at Ron and watched Ron tense up slightly. “Fuck you! Fuck you and your stupid victim complex! Fuck you and, and your stupid desire to be fucking famous! Do you think I wanted this? ANY OF THIS?” Harry hollered right back. Suddenly, everyone behind Harry was quiet. 

“It’s always the bloody same with you!” Harry continued, suddenly not giving a damn if Ron was stepping away from him or if the people behind Harry were too. “You have a family! You have friends! You have a fucking relationship and all of that stuff is still not good enough for you!” 

“As if you can talk!” Ron yelled back, shaking. “You’ve got it all! You can walk around the halls and everyone glorifies you! You have the money, you have the fucking fame, you have everything! People would kill for a life like yours!” 

“PEOPLE HAVE DIED FOR THE LIFE I LIVE!” Harry finally cracked, eyes threatening to shed tears out of the pure frustration and anger that was choking his heart and lungs. “My parents! Cedric! Sirius! I don’t want this! Any of this!” 

“Harry, please,” He heard Hermione whisper behind him, laying a hand on his shoulder but Harry continued, even after Ron’s eyes moved off of him and onto Hermione with a hurt expression. 

“You think my life is all perfect! As if it’s all flowers and rainbows but you and Hermione should know more than others that it’s not!” Harry hissed. Hermione’s hand was gone but Harry didn’t care about that right now. “You’ve seen everything firsthand! All the fighting, all the death! It doesn’t stop, but you keep getting angry that you don’t have this bloody cursed crown on you! You see what it does, you know it’s cursed, but all you care about with your stupid materialistic mind is the stupid crown!” 

Ron and Harry stared at each other with fists at their sides. Neither of them looked away. Not even when McGonagall stormed in with Hermione right behind her. 

“Everyone! Go to your beds! Immediately!” She announced and looked at the two boys who were still glaring at each other. “Mr. Weasley, go to bed. You will have a meeting with me first thing tomorrow morning.” She looked at Harry and bit her cheek. “Mr.Potter. Office. Now.” 

“Of course she sees you first,” Ron growled under his breath, roughly bumping his shoulder against Harry’s and leaving to his bed. Hermione sniffled behind McGonagall and Harry walked up to her. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Harry apologized to her. Hermione threw herself onto Harry, pulling him into a hug, and she let out a soft sob when Harry wrapped his arms around her. “Try and get some sleep. I’ll talk to you tomorrow morning.” Hermione nodded and let go of him. But before she let Harry walk away with McGonagall she stopped him. 

“I’ll find a way, Harry,” Hermione said to him and Harry’s eyes widened. Hermione had a serious face on and her eyes were darker. She had fists at her sides, one wrapped firmly around her wand. “I’ll bring him back, Harry. I swear.” With that, Hermione marched to her bed. 

Harry turned to McGonagall and met her cold gaze. 

“Never, in all of my years, have I ever felt this disappointed,” she mumbled. She led him to her office and handed him some biscuits and tea. “Mr.Potter...Harry, please tell us what’s going on. First Mr.Malfoy, and now Mr.Weasley?” 

Harry grit his teeth and sipped his tea. McGonagall watched him as she sipped her own cup. 

“I’m just tired, Professor,” Harry frowned. “Of everything. Of everyone lying to me. I’m exhausted. I just wish I could go back in time and stop everything from happening. You know? I’d give anything to have him here. I miss him.” 

McGonagall’s eyes softened and she offered him a biscuit. He took it and began to eat it slowly. 

“I’m afraid that I’ve been harsh on you recently, Harry,” She confessed. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine. I’m used to it,” Harry shrugged and finished the food, wrapping his arms around himself. His Head of House frowned slightly and set down her tea. 

“You’re sixteen, Mr.Potter. You’re not supposed to be used to this,” She said and Harry shrugged once more. 

“Alright, this is what we will do. I will talk to Mr.Weasley tomorrow and hopefully you two can resolve your issues _peacefully_ and _maturely_ ,” She sighed and stressed on ‘peacefully’ and ‘maturely’. Harry stopped himself from laughing at that by sipping his tea again. “And...I will excuse you from your classes, if you’d lie. For a week, of course, but hopefully this break can help you recover better.” 

“Recover, Professor?” Harry said, looking up at her with a small frown forming on his lips. “I won’t recover from this. I can’t recover from this. I can learn to ignore it, or even accept it in some messed up way, but recover?” Harry let a small laugh escape. “Sirius is dead. And Dumbledore has been lying to me this entire time. My best friend won’t even talk to me and Voldemort is back,” Harry said, his voice getting quieter the more he went on. McGonagall looked down at her hands, ashamed and not knowing what to say. 

“Recovery has never been an option, Professor. But...I would appreciate it if I could get permission to go visit Grimmauld Place. To say my...goodbye and see my new property,” Harry said with a slight bitter tone. McGonagall reached into her desk and began to sign a slip. She handed it to him with slightly shaking hands. “Thank you.” He stood up to leave. 

“Mr.Potter,” McGonagall stopped him and he turned to look back at her. “Don’t forget that people love you. Your friends, who are your family.” When Harry said nothing, she finished. “Thank you for talking with me about this. Have a goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, Professor,” Harry said. He walked to his bed, ignoring Ron who was mumbling to himself, and simply waving goodnight at Neville who was looking at him. 

The Chosen One stared up at the ceiling with his limbs stretched out across the bed. He closed his eyes and imagined a pair of blue gems staring back at him. 

_‘I can’t keep doing this.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oop- 
> 
> alright gn y'all!! 
> 
> you guys can contact me on tumblr: @perseusjackson1
> 
> thank you guys so much for everything! I'll see you in the next update!


	7. Do You Know Who You Are?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry goes to Grimmauld Place to try and say goodbye. But of course, nothing goes Harry's way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! New chapter! :) 
> 
> Thank you so much for every kudos, bookmark, and sub! It makes my heart flutter and I adore every single one of you! I appreciate all the feedback, it's amazing. I know this chapter is only about 5,000 words, I'll try to write some more for the next chapter! 
> 
> Enjoy!

His face felt warm, with sweat dripping down his forehead, and his throat was dry. Harry licked his lips and kept his eyes closed, letting black take over his vision. Yet despite his sweat and thirst, he was shivering as if he had been standing out in the cold for too long. His fingertips burned and were on the verge of almost becoming numb. His chest felt icy cold, but Harry simply focused on the darkness. 

Then, something wet dripped onto his hand, disrupting Harry’s focus. He cracked his eyes open and stared down at the red staining his hand. Slowly, more and more red came down in the forms of droplets. Like rain. Harry watched, moving his hands to cup the red liquid together. Soon enough, Harry found himself holding a pool of red in his palms, dazed. 

Was it blood? 

Two arms curled around his waist, pulling him back and pressing him against their chest. Harry blinked and the small pool of red was gone, and instead there was a knife in his grip. Slowly, a hand snaked its way onto Harry’s, covering his, and wrapping their fingers above his own. They were warm, much much warmer than Harry was. Harry watched as the person behind him forced him to raise the knife into the air. At what the person wanted the Chosen One to point at, Harry didn't know. There was nothing else in the grey room other than them and the knife. Harry’s ears perked up as soft whispers began to travel through the air, almost like the wind. Harry furrowed his eyebrows, trying to decipher what they were saying. He failed as they left him confused and curious. Harry, however, kept trying. His heart began to burn and his hands started to tremble slightly as the voices entranced him but tortured him. They were intoxicating to hear…

Another blink, and Harry almost screamed as he discovered his knife plunged deep into Ron’s red, bloody chest. 

All of a sudden his head felt heavy. The weight forced his head back, exposing his neck, and making Harry feel suffocated. Then, his vision went dark again as a hand covered his eyes. Harry’s breathing became quicker and quicker, anxiety arising in him. He froze when the person behind him began to dig their chin onto his shoulder. He hissed in response to the stinging pain, and stopped again when the person finally spoke. 

“Wake up,” They whispered. Shivers traveled down Harry’s spine as the hot breath warmed his ear. Harry awoke and immediately ran to the bathroom. He fell to his knees in front of the toilets and instantly began to vomit. He flipped his shaking hands frantically, trying to see if there was any vivid red staining his hands. To his relief, he found nothing. He sat there, crouched in front of the toilet. It wasn’t until an hour later when there was some shuffling of feet coming into the bathroom behind Harry. They stopped. 

“What are you doing?” Harry heard Ron ask softly. 

“Nightmare,” was all Harry said back to him bitterly. There was some silence for a bit before Ron sighed and sat behind him. Harry turned to him and glared. 

Ron raised an eyebrow and played with his hands for a bit, still staring back at the boy-who-lived. 

“You have really bad dark under eye circles, mate,” Ron observed. Harry opened his mouth to retort but Ron continued. “You haven’t been eating or drinking much water. You look like death, dragging yourself through the halls, and you barely talk to anyone besides Hermione or first-years who ask you for help. You’ve been diving into your studies and doing Merlin knows what after class. Professors don’t even look at you or acknowledge you anymore, and you look miserable every second of every day.” 

Harry said nothing, simply looking away from the frowning redhead. 

“I’m sorry,” Ron said, shocking Harry a bit. He hesitantly tilted his head to gaze at his dorm mate again. “I’m sorry for yelling. I know you hate it when people yell at you because of the bloody shitty Dursleys, and I know you hate people trying to butt into your business. I’m sorry for pissing you off, but I’m not sorry for doing what I thought was right.” 

“You thought saying I have a god complex in front of the house was right?” Harry retorted, and Ron glared slightly. 

“No. You know what I’m talking about, so stop trying to make me seem like the bad guy in your eyes when you’re my bloody best mate, Harry,” Ron snarked back and Harry bit his cheek. 

“I don’t know everything, I’m not my mum,” Ron muttered. “And yeah, you’re right, I have no idea what you’re going through. But...I want to help you, mate. And I might not help you the way you want me to, but I can’t always know what’s best for you. I can give you my best, and if it’s not good enough, then tell me what I need to do. But stop pushing me away. Stop hiding stuff from me, stop thinking that you have to do all this shit by yourself. Just let me help you. Let me do what I want to do, let me be your friend.” 

Harry thought to himself for a bit. He stabbed his nails into his palms, and kept biting his cheek. Ron let them sit together on the cold floor for minutes. This moment between them wasn’t awkward, it was almost relieving. Harry hated fighting with his mate after all. Soon enough, Harry met Ron’s eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered, hugging his knees to his chest. “I’m just so angry at everything and everyone.” 

“Of course you are,” Ron said, leaning his back against the tiled wall. “Everyone treats you like shit, everyone talks shit, and everyone is shit.” Harry grinned at him. 

“You were pretty shitty too,” Harry hummed and Ron kicked his leg slightly. Harry let a small laugh escape his mouth. Ron smiled back, shoulders losing all tension. 

“You were being pretty shitty too, Potter,” Ron said, mocking Malfoy at the end. Harry just shrugged. “Oi,” Ron frowned. “Did Malfoy actually end up dying?” 

Harry scratched his head, frowning. “No. I, er, actually visited him in the infirmary a couple days or weeks ago. He seemed fine.” 

“Did he attack you?” 

“No. I gave him the pudding Luna makes,” Harry said. 

“Huh, wonder what it tasted like to him,” Ron wondered and Harry pondered as well. 

“Probably some rich food that snobby kids eat, like caviar or something” Ron grinned and Harry snickered. 

They stayed up talking, not caring if it was too early in the morning or that the sun still hadn’t even risen yet. They stopped when Neville walked in and stared at them with wide eyes, as if he was expecting someone to snap. To Neville’s relief, no one did. 

“It’s okay, Neville,” Harry laughed. “We made up.” 

“Yeah. Someone has to be Harry’s voice of reason,” Ron added and Harry just shook his head, standing up with Ron’s help. Ron swung an arm around Harry’s shoulder and the duo left Neville behind, leaving the bathroom chattering and snickering softly. 

They walked into the Great Hall. Ron served himself with a mountain of food and frowned when Harry reached for an apple. Harry wanted to groan as Ron began to serve Harry small servings of different stuff. Harry began to eat and Ron dived into his pile of food enthusiastically. Ginny and Hermione walked in together and sat next to the boys, watching them as Ron and Harry devoted their discussion over Quidditch. 

“So...you guys are like...okay?” Ginny asked slowly, letting her eyes shift from Ron and Harry cautiously. Hermione did the same. Harry shrugged and Ron just nodded. 

“Yeah, I think we’re good,” Ron reassured. Hermione hummed and she kept watching Ron. 

“So, Ron, how was your meeting with McGonagall?” Hermione asked and hid a smile as Ron cursed, stood up, and ran to McGonagall’s office. Harry watched amused as Ron tripped and scrambled off without them. He began to eat a little bit more and fidgeted when he noticed Ginny staring at him a bit. 

“You need something, Ginny?” Harry asked and watched Ginny blush a bit. Harry’s heart began to beat a little bit faster and he noticed that Ginny looked nice when she was flustered. Hermione began to serve herself, seemingly ignoring them. Harry watched Ginny smile a bit and he smiled back. 

“No, I just like looking at you. You’re hot,” Ginny winked and started to cackle when Harry choked on his sausage. Hermione patted Harry’s back until he waved a hand at her to tell her that he was fine. Face flushed, Harry jokingly glared at Ginny as he watched her hide her smile behind her hands and watched her shoulders shake from joyful laughter. 

“Stop,” Harry mumbled under his breath. 

“Aw, but I’m having so much fun,” Ginny teased. Harry just shoved some food into his mouth and began to read the Daily Prophet that Hedwig had just dropped. Immediately, his eyes stopped at the cover’s headline. 

_ RESPECTED WIZENGAMOT MEMBER ASSASSINATED BY MUGGLEBORN WIFE! _

Emerald eyes ignored the rest of the text, and instead stayed on the image that accompanied the article. Captured in the picture was Evangeline, with her husband by her side. While the man was smiling at the reporters that were also in the picture, surrounding them, Harry observed Evangeline’s neutral face and eyes that stayed glued to the floor that her and her husband were walking on. Harry noticed the hand on the back of her neck and just set the paper down, watching everyone in the Great Hall that had the Daily Prophet in their hands. 

He noticed the horror in their eyes first. Majority of the people who had such reactions were half-bloods. Others had horror and disappointment in some muggleborn’s eyes. But what interested Harry was the pure disgust and rage that almost all of the purebloods held in their eyes and clenched jaws. They set the paper down and began to talk to their peers with the disgust practically being spat out in the form of words. They were sneering and rolling their eyes and Harry turned to look at Ginny. 

“Hey Ginny. You interested in politics?” Harry asked. Ginny gave him a curious look before shaking her head. 

“I’m not but Fred kinda is. He spends some stuff making fun of Percy through insulting some politicians,” Ginny said. Harry just nodded. “Why?” 

Harry handed her the paper and sat up when she began to choke on her food and cough, alarm in her eyes. 

“They murdered Montgomery?!” Ginny gasped, snatching the paper immediately out of his hands. “No way...Fred is gonna lose his shit!” 

Hermione immediately looked up, alarmed as well. “They murdered Lord Montgomery?!” She repeated, eyes wide. She snatched the paper out of Ginny’s grip, ignoring Ginny’s cry of “hey!”. Harry simply stared at them. 

“Who’s Montgomery?” Harry frowned. Hermione started shaking her head frantically and Ginny gave her a pitying look. 

“Lord Montgomery is one of the few purebloods who actively fights for muggleborns and wizards and witches who were discriminated against,” Fred said from behind them, plucking the newspaper out of Hermione’s shaking hands. “People like Hagrid and ‘Mione, you know?” Fred frowned as he stared at the picture. “Or at least, he _ was _ . But while he had some different views in comparison to other pureblood Lords, the lad had a lot of power and influence. Bunch of connections, very educated, experienced, all that stuff that’s highly respected in pureblood families. He even had connections to the Sacred Twenty-Eight.” 

“It’s horrible,” Hermione worried. “With his election onto the Wizengamot court, the perspective on muggles, muggleborns, half breeds, and other different minorities and communities was changing. He helped form a better look at them. At us. He made so many changes and was a really powerful legislative member. But with his own muggle born wife murdering him, everything he’s been working for and promoting will just be...ignored. Everything.” 

“Was he the only person on Wizengamot that had those beliefs?” Harry frowned, now understanding why Hermione was scared. 

Hermione gulped and shook her head. “N-no. But...he was the only pureblood that had really great relations. Bones and Dumbledore are on there too, but people were more willing to listen to him because he was close to many members of the Sacred Twenty-Eight.” 

Harry still frowned. “Is he really that important? You didn’t seem to freak out like this when you met him at Slughorn’s party. And what’s the Sacred Twenty-Eight?” 

Hermione gave him a dirty look, “Well, I was more worried about you being  _ drugged _ .” 

“Harry was drugged?” George perked up, grinning. “How was it? Was it the good old 420?” George pretended to smoke and Hermione scoffed. 

“No! Romilda Vane was planning on dosing Harry with a love potion!” She revealed. Ginny instantly began to stand up and she glared at George who instantly yanked her down. 

  
“Let me go, I need to go kill Romilda Vane,” She spat out. George just shook his head and forced her to calm down. Harry was still frowning. 

“I...I don’t know. Was he actually a good guy? There must’ve been a reason why she killed him,” Harry asked. Hermione and Fred shared a look before shaking their heads. 

“Harry. Don’t you get it? It doesn’t matter if he was good or bad, even though he was a good guy. A muggleborn killed a pureblood. The victim is  _ him _ , that’s all that matters to the public and to the other members that are probably gonna revert back to their ignorant ways,” Fred sneered. Harry said nothing, turning to watch the Headmaster. Dumbledore’s face was pale and he seemed distraught. The Headmaster seemed to have also respected Montgomery. Harry grabbed his paper back from Fred who began to walk away. Harry stared down at Evangeline’s face and the way she refused to ever look at her husband. Her dark brown eyes and brown hair that covered her face, shielding her. 

_ ‘There’s no way no one knew what she was going through. I noticed it immediately, _ ’ Harry thought to himself. His gaze landed on Dumbledore who seemed to avoid the newspapers that Flitwick was trying to pass to him. A wave of anger hit Harry harshly as he began to glare at the old Headmaster. ‘ _ There’s no way he didn’t see.’  _

Dumbledore looked away from Flitwick and back to Harry. Harry maintained fierce eye contact with a sharp glare. Dumbledore seemed to pause, before dropping his gaze. 

The parallel image of Dumbledore not being able to look at Harry the same way Evangeline could never look up at Montgomery made Harry want to laugh and cry at the same time. 

Ron came back with McGonagall leading him. She walked past them, saying a good morning to her Gryffindors. She looked at Harry and handed him a bag before sitting next to Dumbledore and striking conversation. Ron sat next to Harry and continued eating. Hermione grabbed Harry's Daily Prophet and began to eat her cereal, eyes quickly scanning every word of the article focused on Montgomery's murder. 

“How was the meeting?” Harry asked. 

“She called me out on my bullshit and called you out too. The usual,” Ron laughed. Harry stood up after a bit, and grabbed his book bag. 

“Going to go study in the library, mate? Want me to come? Cuz I can finish this in under a minute if you want,” Ron said and Harry gave him a weird look. 

“I’m going to class,” Harry said. Ron gave Harry a weird look in return. 

“From what I recall, there tends to be no classes on Saturdays, Harry,” Ron raised an eyebrow at Harry and Harry stood there, thinking to himself. Was it really Saturday already? 

“Oh,” Harry said. “Well, I have to leave anyway. Might as well leave now.” 

Hermione and Ron looked up at him. “Where?” They asked. 

“McGonagall let me go home earlier for break. I’m off to Grimmauld place. To...do stuff,” Harry answered, not wanting to say this was him _ trying _ to say goodbye to Sirius like he had told his Head of House. Ron’s eyes softened a little and he nodded. 

“I hope you take the time to study for final exams,” Hermione encouraged and exclaimed when Ron threw a sausage at her. “Ron!” 

Ron rolled his eyes. “Only you would tell Harry to study instead of telling him to have fun,” Ron chuckled. Harry smiled and just left, feeling much more happier than he had ever felt in a while. Just as he left the Great Hall, he was pulled to the side by a pale hand. Harry reached for his wand but stopped when he met grey eyes and saw platinum blonde hair. 

“Malfoy,” Harry sighed out slightly. Then he glared harshly at the Slytherin boy. “What the hell? I almost cursed you!” 

“And Snape would’ve tried to get you expelled. I don’t care I just...I need,” the Slytherin looked almost embarrassed as the tip of his ears grew red. “I need some more pudding.” 

“Oh? So I’m your drug dealer now? Or would I be your pudding dealer?” Harry tilted his head and rolled his eyes when the Slytherin grew paranoid, checking around them. 

“Quit acting like a fool and give me what I want,” Malfoy sneered. At seeing him sneer, Harry stood up straight and stared coldly at the other. Malfoy frowned and looked taken back. “...please?” 

“Wow, didn’t know you knew that word,” Harry chirped, before reaching into his bag, and pulling out some pudding that Luna had stuffed in his bag at Hogsmeade. He had tried to stop her but the girl was just as stubborn as him. He held the pudding out and watched amused as Malfoy wrapped his fingers around the cup and tried to take it. Malfoy couldn’t and he glared at Harry once more. 

“What’s your problem, Potter?” 

“I’ll give it to you under some conditions,” Harry began and Malfoy groaned a little. 

“Just spare me the humiliation and be a saint, will you Potter? Just give me the pudding, free of charge,” Malfoy grumbled. Harry shook his head. “What do you want?” 

“Three things. One, tell me what it tastes like for you-” 

“Nosy, much?” 

“-two, tell me what you’re planning-” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about-” 

“...and three, tell me who you’re trying to kill,” Harry asked the last question slowly and watched Malfoy tense up. Grey eyes began to panic as they darted across the corridor and across Harry’s face. Malfoy turned and tried to walk away quickly but Harry grabbed him by the elbow. When Malfoy whipped out his wand, Harry whipped his out faster and held it underneath the pureblood’s chin. 

“Try to attack me once more, Draco,” Harry warned. “And I’ll make you wish you were dead.” 

Malfoy’s eyes widened and he stared into Harry’s dark eyes. 

When no words were exchanged between them, Harry let go of Malfoy’s collar, and began to walk away. Malfoy cried after him. 

“Chamomile!” 

Harry turned to look at the Slytherin that was shaking. Malfoy walked to him, putting his wand away but Harry kept his in his hands. 

“You asked what the pudding tasted like. It tastes like my family’s favorite tea. We...we would drink it every night in France during winter break. My father would sit down with Mother and I, and we would talk over a cup of tea,” Draco croaked out, trying to hold back tears that Harry saw forming. “Chamomile tea.” 

“That’s all you’re gonna tell me?” Harry asked. Malfoy looked at the ground. 

“It’s all I can tell you,” the blonde boy confessed. Harry reached into his bag and handed Malfoy some more pudding. “I asked for one?” 

“I know. But whatever you’re going through seems...rough,” Harry drawled slightly. “You’ll need more than one.” 

With that, Malfoy watched Potter walk away with a desire to reach out to the Chosen One. He never did. 

Harry walked around the corner and walked outside. Once out of Hogwarts property, he opened the bag McGonagall had handed to him. Inside was a quill that was his portkey to Grimmauld. He opened the note inside and said the word needed to activate the portkey. Seconds later, he found himself at Grimmauld. He walked in and stopped at the entrance. 

Everything was dirty. 

Nothing was out of place; everything was the same way Sirius had left it. Harry took a deep breath, walked in, and called out, “Kreacher.” 

Pop. 

The house elf stared up at him with disgusted eyes and a sneer. Kreacher began to whisper to himself. “Master has called for Kreacher...what a dirty blood traitor Master is. Kreacher won’t obey the pathetic half-blood, Kreacher won’t. He won’t!” He seemed to almost spit his words at Harry and Harry clenched his teeth. _ ‘Pathetic?’  _

“Kreacher...just, just clean, would you?” Harry asked, trying to be as patient as possible. He avoided looking at him as he walked past. The hallways were narrow, probably even more narrow than before, Harry anxiously thought to himself. They were overwhelming him, as if they were trying to squish Harry and choke the air out of his lungs. The walls were black, covered in dust, wood chipped, exposed by the soft sunlight that filled the rooms and halls. What was once the majestic Black House diminished to become an abandoned horror house; a ghost of what it once was or could’ve been if the darkness hadn’t infected the family and their home. As he walked up the stairs, the wood steps creaked underneath his heavy foot. He grabbed onto the railing and dragged himself up onto the second floor. Once he reached the top, he ignored the coldness pressing up against his back, trying to not think about how much it would hurt if he accidentally let go of the railing and let gravity take him down. With every passing second, Harry dug his fingernails into the rough wood railing, the only thing grounding him beside his weak, swaying legs. He stared at his feet, trying to take one more step but found he couldn’t.

Just across from him was Sirius’ room. 

It was just a few feet away. 

He tried to lift a leg, tried to move, tried to breathe. 

He couldn’t. 

A heavy weight began to haunt Harry, pushing him down by his shoulders. His breath finally began to come out in shuddery gasps, shaking his entire body. He felt so weak, and his knees hurt so bad.  _ ‘I need to do it, just take one more step.’ _

He let go and let himself fall. He finally tipped over, and felt nothing for an infinite second. Then, the guilt, the fear, the pain came all at once. Harry crashed down the staircase, unable to feel calm as every emotion began to rush through his body and burn him. He curled up, hugging himself as Sirius’ closed door stayed shut. He couldn’t bring himself to look away from it, he couldn’t bring himself to get up and try again either. All Harry could do was stab his nails into his skin and try to make the pain overwhelming so that he could forget about the guilt, even if the pain was temporary. 

_ ‘Pathetic’. _

He closed his eyes. When he opened them, everything was dark. Harry began to sit up and hissed as an excruciating pain extended from his lower back to his ribs, shoulders, and head. The boy thought about calling out for Kreacher, but decided that the few minutes of hearing the house elf insult Harry and mock Sirius weren’t worth it. 

_ ‘Sirius…’ _

He brought up a trembling hand to cover his mouth, trying to hold himself back from throwing up all over himself and the floor. Harry heard the snap of someone’s fingers, and the lights turned on, flickering. Right above the staircase, standing across Sirius’ room, and staring down at Harry was Kreacher. 

“Even if the boy-who-lived made a mess, Kreacher won’t clean up the pathetic half-blood’s mess,” He said. He kept staring at Harry’s aching body, and almost stepped back in surprise when Harry started to chuckle. “The dirty boy has gone crazy…”

That small comment made Harry stop and he scowled slightly.  _ ‘I’ll bloody show you crazy if you don’t  _ **_shut up.’_ **

He grabbed onto a nearby table and began to slowly push himself up. Ignoring the pain, he looked back up to Kreacher. 

“Kreacher...does Grimmauld Place have a library?” 

Kreacher’s eyes widened slightly. “Why should a filthy half blood like Harry Potter deserve to step into Mistress’ beloved library?” 

“...I wish to look into some rituals, some ancient magic,” Harry replied. When he saw Kreacher begin to tense up, as if he wanted to leave. Harry stepped forward, stumbling slightly. “Do you know if there are books on Horcruxes..? Or, the Veil-” 

“Horcruxes?” Kreacher repeated, tears in his eyes. He began to descend down the stairs, refusing to break eye contact with Harry. “Why would the blood traitor be looking into Horcruxes? No one should be looking into Horcruxes, Master said, Master made me promi-” The house elf stopped talking and moving, only watching Harry with a cautious, judging gaze. 

“Wait,” Harry frowned. “Your Master? You mean..” He began to think. Once he realized who Kreacher was talking about, Harry hesitated. “You mean...Sirius’ brother?” 

That seemed to completely upset Kreacher as the house elf disappeared with a loud pop. 

“No!” Harry yelled. “Kreacher! Come back!” 

Another pop and Kreacher appeared in the corner of Harry’s eye, hiding behind a wall. 

“Kreacher...Kreacher, tell me about Sirius’ brother. What did he know about horcruxes?” Harry demanded. Kreacher gave Harry a dirty look before finally opening his mouth. 

“Master Regulus saved Kreacher,” The house elf rasped out. “Master served the Dark Lord, but Master Regulus discovered the dangerous magic the Dark Lord had been using. Master tried to destroy the Lord’s horcrux but in the end--” Harry watched the house elf hold up a locket with an S on it. “Master ordered Kreacher to destroy the horcrux, but Kreacher couldn’t. Kreacher failed his Master...and his Master’s final wishes.” 

Harry extended his arm out to Kreacher, leaving an open hand reaching out to Kreacher. “Kreacher...I can destroy the locket. I can help you. I’ve destroyed one of Voldemort’s horcruxes before. A diary. I can do it again...just trust me.” 

They stood there. Kreacher hesitated and Harry waited. When Kreacher slowly dropped the horcrux into Harry’s palm, Harry smiled at the house elf. 

“A nasty man broke in, searching for the locket a few months ago. Kreacher stopped him,” Kreacher told Harry and Harry’s eyes snapped up from the locket to the house elf, angsty. 

“Who?” 

“A filthy half blood. Master may know him as Mundungus Fletcher.” 

Harry cursed. Bloody Mundungus…

“...has he attempted to steal it again since then? Or has he tried to break in again?” Harry asked, holding himself back from marching out of the house and cursing Mundungus. Kreacher shook his head with a small smile, as if he knew the dark thoughts Harry was thinking. Harry just nodded and didn’t notice how his hands stopped clenching. 

“Come along, Master. Kreacher shall take you to the library.” With that, Kreacher turned and began to lead Harry down the halls, turning randomly, and walking through the place as if it were a maze. Finally, Kreacher stood in front of a tall wooden door that had high relief details around the door frame. It was quite lovely, if Harry were to be frank. 

“Thank you,” Harry whispered and pushed against the cold doors. They slowly opened and revealed miles and miles of bookcases. Chandeliers dangled from the ceiling, illuminating the shiny corridor floor, almost lighting up a path for Harry to follow. 

“If Master needs help, Kreacher will assist,” Kreacher bowed. Harry turned to face him. 

“Do you remember which books Regulus looked into?” 

Kreacher nodded and walked down the mysterious aisles. They walked for about a minute or two when the house elf stopped before a small section in the middle of the room. Harry limped forward and read the small label. Dark Arts, Section H, Shelf One. He stepped back slightly and looked up, letting his eyes climb every shelf. He began to squint as his eyes traveled higher until the bookshelves seemed to disappear into the ceiling. 

“Brilliant. Thank you,” Harry mumbled to Kreacher before letting his fingers glide across the book spines. He felt the ridges and heard Kreacher’s ‘pop’ that signified he had teleported away. 

“Who are you?”

Harry jumped and instantly turned around, wand in hand, eyes jumping around the dark. Harry ignored the banging pain that traveled through his back to his head and kept his guard. 

“Oh yes, what are you going to do? Curse me?” The voice teased him and Harry glanced to his right and to his left. Nothing. 

“I will if I have to. What do you want?” Harry said loudly. The voice began to laugh at him and pissed Harry off. 

“Lumos Maxima!” Harry hissed out and there was blinding light. The voice hissed back and Harry found himself staring at a portrait of a man who was covering his face. 

“Turn that light off,” The man mumbled and Harry’s light flickered and slowly dimmed to a more comfortable brightness. Harry observed the painting. 

“Who are you?” Harry raised his wand. The man brought down his hands and Harry’s breath hitched. “Sirius?” 

The man chuckled, “My, You have horrible memory, Mr. Potter.” 

The boy stared at the smirking man before he realized. “You’re the Headmaster in Dumbledore’s office. Phineas Black.” 

“Hm,” The man hummed, staring at the bookshelf Harry seemed to almost try and cover. “Yes, now tell me, what would Dumbledore do if he found out his cherished Chosen One was indulging in the dark arts?” 

Harry’s eyes darkened and he leaned against the shelf, trying to stop himself from collapsing in pain. “Thinking about snitching to the old man, aren’t you, Headmaster?” 

The older man began to sneer slightly, “Of course not. I’m simply curious as to why a boy like you would be researching such magic. Especially since you’re Dumbledore’s boy. Or, rather,” Phineas smiled. “--you were. Before my descendent died and Dumbledore broke your trust.” 

Harry quickly turned and began to read book titles, trying to ignore the man’s gaze on his back. 

“Don’t worry, Potter. I won’t tell Dumbledore what his golden boy is up to,” Phineas said. “Even if it means I sadly won’t get to see his face crumble and watch the guilt destroy him.” 

Harry scoffed. “Guilt? Dumbledore lacks any remorse for his actions. He’s too blinded by his twisted perspective of the greater good to care about anything else.” Phineas didn’t say anything after Harry’s angry thought. He simply watched the Gryffindor pick out a book and begin to read. 

“And I’m not Dumbledore’s golden boy anymore. Wish I never was, actually,” Harry shrugged, flipping through the book pages. His eyes scanned but he hadn’t found “Horcruxes” yet. He put it back. 

“You’ll come crawling back to your Professor, Mr.Potter,” Phineas watched the boy pick out another text. “You Gryfinndors are so predictable, it almost hurts.” 

“No matter what happens, you’ll never see me by Dumbledore’s side. Ever. Not after all the stuff he could’ve done, all the stuff he didn’t do, and...all the stuff he did. To me. To my family. To Tom,” Harry rambled, eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t notice the man’s frown. 

“If you’re not by the man’s side, then does that mean you’re on the Dark Lord’s?” Phineas raised an eyebrow. Harry snapped the book shut and slid it back into its respected spot. 

Harry let out a soft chuckle and turned to look at the old Headmaster. “No.” 

Just as Phineas opened his mouth, Kreacher popped in and held out a letter. 

“Mail. From Master’s...brown haired girl friend,” Kreacher mumbled. Harry immediately frowned. It hadn’t even been a week and Hermione had already sent a letter? He grabbed it and opened it. Attached was a newspaper clipping from the Daily Prophet that included the page number. Page 46, the very last page. He began to read Hermione’s nice cursive writing. 

_ “I need you. Please.”  _

He frowned and looked back to the newspaper. 

_ ATTACK ON MUGGLE TOWN! POSSIBLE ATTACK FROM DEATH EATERS? TWO DEAD.  _

The familiar couple stared back into Harry’s wide eyes. He had only met them a few times.

Hermione’s smiling parents were in the article’s picture. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, Herm. 
> 
> :)
> 
> Please, leave a comment if you liked it or if you didn't! I'd love to hear what you guys think! I'll see you next week!


	8. Isle of Flightless Birds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Late Merry Christmas!! I've been busy lately, but I managed to squeeze out this new chapter! I hope you like it! I wanted to say thank you so much for all the support all of you have shown and given me. This is my first story and reading the feedback is so touching. I appreciate every single one of you! I Hope you have a good New Years and that 2020 ends well for you. I hope 2021 will be a much better year for all of us. 
> 
> See you next chapter! Please, leave a comment and some love through a kudos!

Dumbledore stared at his rotting fingers that he hid underneath his desk with Minerva’s voice slowly fading into the background. The pain was getting worse with each passing second but he couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it. It was a fact that he couldn’t do anything about the decaying flesh anyways since he couldn’t stop it; but in a sort of twisted way, the pain was justified, leaving Dumbledore to do nothing to even  _ try _ and stop it. No human was perfect. After all, mankind's greatest temptation was sin. Mistakes and sin were bound to be committed by the always learning species that was equally both good and evil. Dumbledore himself was a perfect example. 

A perfect one. 

The old man closed his eyes as the pain spread from the tip of his fingers to his temples. Dumbledore began every morning carefully reciting his beliefs, devoting his every being to them; finding purpose in serving the greater good. After Gellert, this ritual relieved Dumbledore of his dark past and twisted ideologies that Gellert had helped form. It cleansed his soul and left him to start his day with a better understanding of what he should do, and to ignore any other actions. If what he wished to do didn’t correlate to the greater good, then no action was taken to initiate them. Instead, he cast aside desired actions and sought out just ones. He had a desire to be better than his past shadow, the old him, that haunted him with every step he took. Yet as time passed, the choices Dumbledore made only resulted in sin reigning in the society Dumbledore had dedicated himself to helping. The same communities that Dumbledore wanted to cleanse and free from immorality. Bitterness began to settle in him. He discovered that his ritual formed by the desire to be good left him committing desperate actions to redeem himself. Nevertheless, instead of looking back on if the greater good truly was the good anymore, Dumbledore pushed these old beliefs further and forced himself to view them as the singular truth. He forced others to do so as well. 

He had pitted himself against Tom in the sake of protecting the Wizarding World, and watched the child, boy, teenager, and then man filled with the potential for good become obsessed with corruptible power. And when the greater good presented itself in the vessel of the Chosen One, Dumbledore had forced the Potters to adopt his beliefs. 

He had sacrificed two powerful people for the sake of the greater good. 

He had done the same to their legacy. To their son. 

And Fate had sacrificed Hermione Granger's parents for some unknown reason that Dumbledore attempted to convince himself was for the greater good. 

“She hasn’t talked to anyone,” Minerva whispered, worried. “Mr.Weasley has stayed by her side the entire time but even he hasn’t been able to get a word out of her. Have you received any updates on their murder?”

“I have,” Dumbledore replied gravely. Minerva waited for him to continue but he didn’t. Instead, he gazed at his fingers once more.  It felt like he was being burned alive. Slowly. 

“Albus, please. What did they say?” 

Dumbledore wondered what his life would have been like if he had stayed by Gellert’s side. Standing next to him, as his equal. He could remember vividly the way his magic sang each time their skin touched; like an electric current was passing through them. As if their touch was the final puzzle piece to complete the circuit to get things flowing. The way Gellert would smile and caress Dumbledore’s chin. Being with Gellert had made Dumbeldore feel alive, exhilarated. Being with his old lover erased any concern about anything else. All that mattered was him and Gellert and their worship for each other. But after Ariana’s death, this spark began to fade and instead it mocked Dumbledore for his naive idea of what love and good was. 

He couldn’t bring himself to stay, so he left. And no matter the countless times Gellert attempted to gain back his love, no matter the infinite nights Dumbledore craved Gellert’s cold hands that somehow warmed him up, Dumbledore never went back to him.

There was evil in his past, darkness in his old mind and heart. It showed in the way Dumbledore let Gellert nurture sin in him with a soft whisper in his ear and arms wrapped around his waist. It showed in the way Dumbledore didn’t hesitate to seek out immortality at the cost of his own morality. If Gellert wanted to live an infinite life with him, it seemed righteous and possible in his past naive self's mind. If Gellert thought there was good in evil, then Dumbledore tried to think the same. But, when Gellert threw himself into the Dark Arts and presented himself as the next big threat, Dumbledore had thought that evil and good were battles wizards and witches would struggle the most in. That the Dark Arts was the biggest evil to torture magical beings. In watching Gellert’s words ignite a world war for both muggles and wizards, in watching his family be tortured by muggle children, he realized that evil existed in everyone. Even in muggles. 

“The murder of Miss Granger’s parents was not a result from a death eater attack. They were killed by a muggle,” Dumbledore revealed. As Minerva gasped and pressed a shaking hand against her rapidly beating heart, the two adults continued to try and figure out how to help the Gryffindor girl. They talked for about half an hour when Harry burst in through the door. 

“Where is she?!” Harry asked. Dumbledore noticed how Harry leaned his weight against the door frame, as if avoiding putting weight on his back. 

“Mr.Potter,” Professor McGonagall stood up immediately and walked to him. “Maybe you can help her start talking...she’s in the infirmary with Madam Pomfrey and Mr.Weasley. Come, I will take you to her.” 

McGonagall rushed past him. Harry’s eyes darkened when Dumbledore met his, but the boy turned and went after his Head of House. 

“She hasn’t spoken a single word since she discovered the news,” the woman whispered. Their quick steps echoed softly in the Hogwarts corridors and the light that the Professor held from her want lit up a blue glow onto the clean floor and high walls. The portraits snored and sighed in their sleep. 

“Did they find out who did it?” Harry asked. 

“A Muggle,” was all she said. Harry frowned and walked faster. The moment the infirmary doors let him in, Harry rushed to Ron’s side and watched Hermione. Her eyes were glued to the floor, hands wrapped around her small frame. Her wild hair somehow looked less healthy, as if all of its moisture was sucked out. She wasn’t pale, but her face lacked the usual red colored cheeks that always appeared when she smiled or when she was stressed. Hermione looked all...wrong. 

“She hasn’t talked to me. I’ve been talking for almost six hours, trying to distract her. But she just stays like this, I don’t know what to do,” Ron stressed, eyebrows furrowing. Harry noticed the way Ron hugged himself, eyes glued to the floor, as if he were copying Hermione. Ron’s lips were chapped, as if he had been biting them for hours. There was some dried blood that stayed on Ron’s bottom lip and finger tips, telling Harry that Ron was nervously picking at his skin and lips. Harry sat next to Ron and put a hand on his mate’s shoulder. 

“Hey, stop beating yourself up,” Harry reassured him. Ron glanced at him before watching Hermione. “You look like you’re going to pass out. Try and get some sleep, I’ll stay awake with her.” 

“What if she needs me and I’m asleep?” Ron panicked slightly, digging his nails into his arms. 

“Then I’ll wake you up. C’mon, Ron, you’re starting to look like Malfoy, all tired and pale,” Harry pat Ron’s back slightly. Soon enough, Ron fell asleep after making Harry promise to wake him up if Hermione needed “anything at all”. Harry watched Hermione’s shoulders move slightly as she let out soft breaths in and out. Hermione was so quiet that all he could hear was the clock ticking from Madam Pomfrey’s office. 

“You don’t have to talk, you know? You don’t even have to say a word, ‘Mione,” Harry broke the silence. Hermione didn’t move but he knew she was listening. “We can just sit here together. Just know that...you’re not alone.” 

Hermione’s shoulders started to shake and she began to let out sobs. 

“They’re really gone,” She gasped out. She turned and looked at Harry with big eyes and an open mouth, as if she were still gasping. Her lips trembled. 

“I’m sorry,” was all Harry could really say. He knew what Hermione was thinking. How she wanted someone to give her all the answers to her questions, how she wanted everyone to tell her exactly what she wanted to hear. He understood how much she probably hated “I’m sorry”, just like he did. But suddenly being in the position where he had to comfort someone else for losing a lost one instead, he found that he could only say sorry. Sorry for the pain that Hermione was feeling. He was sorry that the pain wasn’t going to go away quickly. That the memories that Hermione had with her parents were still going to be there, replaying in her mind every second of every day. But this time it was different. Because before, she had her parents that were waiting for her with open arms after being apart for months. But this time, she had no one waiting for her at her childhood house. Her parents were going to be away forever and the pain wouldn’t go away the moment Hermione wanted it to. 

“I read the entire article,” Hermione frowned, staring up at the ceiling. Harry looked up to and admired the way the light glistened on the textured arches and stone slabs. “Did you know they were awake the entire time?”    
  


Harry froze. 

“What?” 

Hermione stared at Harry with dark brown eyes that seemed black instead. “They were awake. Whoever killed them tortured them...let their blood drain out from their...their...until they--” She choked slightly. Harry shook Ron awake as Hermione quickly turned and threw up all over the floor. Ron jumped up and rushed to her, holding her hair back and rubbing her back. Hermione started to cry harder until she shoved her face into Ron’s chest and began to scream. 

Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey ran in, eyes wide as they watched Hermione break down into an emotional wreck, digging her nails into Ron’s back to the point where he began to bleed, and screaming into his chest. 

“Miss Granger--”

“Go. Away,” Harry interrupted. The ladies looked at him shocked. 

“Excuse me?!” McGonagall exclaimed but Harry continued. 

“Because of you, she fucking knows how her parents died. She knows the pain they fucking went through, she knows everything. You and Dumbledore are the _ only  _ ones who knew the details about the report, so she must’ve overheard your conversation that should’ve been held in a _ private  _ environment. Instead, you had it  _ in front of her. _ Just because she doesn’t fucking talk doesn’t mean she isn’t fucking  _ listening _ !” Harry exploded. McGonagall stayed in her spot, staring at Harry with horrified eyes, before looking down at Hermione. 

“Miss Granger...I..I’m sorry, I…” She was at a loss for words. Ron glared at her. 

“Just leave,” The redhead spat out, hugging Hermione closer. Madam Pomfrey watched the Professor leave before looking at the livid boys. 

“I’ll get her a calming drought.” She left. When she came back, she slowly laid Hermione back down with comforting words and touches to her shoulder. She fed the potion to Hermione and told the boys that they could stay as long as they wanted. Ron sat on the edge of Hermione’s bed, smoothing her hair back. Hermione leaned her head against Ron’s thigh and she let out a soft sigh. 

“Harry?” 

Harry’s head jerked back up, “Yeah?” 

“Do you believe in God?” 

Ron and Harry shared a worried but also confused face. Harry had never really thought about God much before. 

“No...not really,” Harry mumbled out and Hermione let out a small laugh. 

“Not even a bit?” 

“Well...I’ve never even thought about it before.” Okay, that was a lie. Harry had spent a bit of time wondering if Sirius had gone to heaven or hell. He had wondered that if God existed...then why did he make Harry suffer this much? But these thoughts had only crossed his mind for a few hours after he had had a breakdown at the Dursleys. This quickly stopped when Harry began to freak out about where he would go and if he would ever see Sirius again, so he pushed aside any belief in God. “Uh...I mean, I never really grew up religious or anything like that. Guess the Dursleys never wanted me to have hope in something.” 

Ron snorted slightly. 

“They used to. I think they’d be in heaven, watching me from up there,” Hermione continued, her voice getting slower and softer as sleep started to make her drift away. The boys stayed quiet until she fell asleep, hand in Ron’s. Ron and Harry talked for a bit before Ron fell asleep too, hugging Hermione close in his sleep. Harry watched them awkwardly before leaving and pulling out the locket from his bag. He limped his way to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. He went in and stopped in front of the familiar and infamous sink. 

“Open,” Harry hissed in Parseltongue. The way to the Chamber revealed itself. Harry looked down at the huge hole and sighed. Should he throw himself down or ask for stairs? His back was killing him…

“Stairs?” Harry hissed again and watched surprised as stones began to pull out from the walls and form a spiral staircase, leading Harry to the bottom. It took him a while and some breaks but he managed to reach the bottom. He continued his way until he found himself in front of the huge statue of Salazar Slytherin, where in the middle of them laid the basilisk's decaying body. Harry gagged at the horrid smell but managed to get another of the basilisk’s fangs. He stared down at the locket as he got to his knees and prepared himself to destroy the horcrux. 

Tom’s. 

Fuck. 

“I...I have to do this. I made a promise,” Harry repeated to himself. “A promise. I can’t break a promise. I have to do this...so I can defeat Voldemort. And...and live to see Sirius again.” 

He held the fang in their air with a strong grip despite shaking hands. He bit his lip and glared down at the locket. It really was beautiful. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Harry started to tear up and shake harder. But this time, out of anger. Why the hell did he have to fucking do this? Why was his destiny decided by a stupid prophecy? Why couldn’t he be happy with his family, his friends. Why couldn’t Dumbledore have done this instead? Harry choked back a scream as he stared at the locket that suddenly started to radiate warmth.

_ ‘The locket...it’s making me feel this _ ,’ Harry thought to himself, starting to get light headed. He almost fell back but he stabilized himself. ‘ _ Fucking hell!’  _

“Open!” Harry hissed. The moment it did, he stabbed the locket. Gone was the majority of his random negative emotions. He stood up, taking the locket. The glass was shattered but nothing a small “Reparo” couldn’t fix. He put it on and walked out, shoving the basilisk fang into his bag. The metal chain felt cold against Harry’s collarbone but it didn’t bother Harry. With a small smile, he fiddled with the chain as he walked out of the Chamber and back to the infirmary. Ron and Hermione were still asleep and Harry let himself sink down into his chair. He closed his eyes and let the darkness take away his vision. He could still hear the clock faintly ticking in the background. 


	9. The Sky Will Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Hermione try to find a way to do the impossible. Draco manages to sneak in Death Eaters and the Battle of the Astronomy Tower begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all! I hope you all had a wonderful winter. My break was great and I hope you all had a fantastic New Years! Here's the new chapter! Thank you for all your comments, kudos, subs, and bookmarks! You all make me so happy and your love for this story helps me to continue writing. Please give me feedback and let me know how you are all feeling so far and what you all think is going to happen. I have looots of stuff planned and I'm curious to see what route you guys think I'm taking, haha. Thank you for the support! Love you guys, enjoy this chapter <3

The fumes were filling the air, clouding their surroundings. The soft bubbling of the potion that Hermione was creating distracted Harry. 

“Is it done?” Harry sighed, staring at the ceiling, counting the cracks. 

Hermione huffed. “It hasn’t even been a minute, Harry.” 

“So?” Harry grinned and Hermione shot him a quick annoyed glance before focusing on her potion. A fly flew in front of Harry and the Chosen One frowned. He raised both hands, ready to kill-

“Pass me the chopped up worms,” Hermione ordered. 

The fly flew away and Harry rubbed the back of his neck and let out a small laugh. 

“Uh...didn’t know the worms were supposed to be chopped up,” Harry grinned. “Oops.” 

“Harry?” 

“Yeah Hermione?” 

“Hurry up and chop them up before I chop you,” The girl hissed softly and began to turn the potion counter-clockwise. Harry obeyed and began to chop them up, like he used to chop up all the ingredients before cooking the Dursley’s food. 

“You know...Ron’s really worried about us,” Harry started. Hermione paused for a moment before going back to what she was doing. Harry continued. “It sucks that we can’t tell him what we’re doing...he’s been trying to spy on us. Just last week, he tried to follow me here.” 

“And did he?” 

“Did he what?” Harry frowned, putting the knife down and setting the now freshly chopped up worms next to Hermione. 

“Did he follow you in here?” 

“I said, _tried_ , ‘Mione.” 

Plop, plop, plop. Slowly, Hermione added in the new ingredients. Harry noticed the fly zipping through the air a few distance away from them. 

“You know why we can’t tell him, Harry,” Hermione whispered, eyebrows furrowed and soft lips pulling themselves down into a small frown. Harry frowned slightly as well and layed down. 

“He’s angry at us for it though,” Harry replied. “I think he’s scared we’ll leave him behind-” 

“In a way, we are,” Hermione cut him off with a quick statement. She put in a dash of crushed fairy wing dust and lowered the heat to a simmer. “For his own good.” 

“Yeah. For _good_ ,” Harry rolled his eyes. “You know, you’re starting to sound like Dumbledore with all your greater good bullshit.” 

“Well I think _Professor_ Dumbledore is a respectable wizard,” She smirked and laughed when Harry scoffed. 

“That’s because you don’t know him like I do,” Harry played with his hair and tie. “But...I guess you’re right in a way. Er, about Ron. Not Dumbledore. If Ron found out what we’ve been doing he’d-” Harry let out a shaky laugh from nervousness. “-he’d probably kill us both.” He turned to stare at the bushy haired girl. She wasn’t smiling and her grip around her wand was tight. 

“You’re right, he’d be furious,” She glared down at the potion and added in the needed knotgrass. Harry crossed his arms over his chest and focused on the soft buzz instead of the soft bubbling. 

That bloody fly…

“I can tell you’re frustrated. I know you hate not being able to talk to Ron about these things...I.I hate it too. I can see how worried he is. I can tell by the way he just stares at us and talks to us. But, Harry, the stuff we’re doing is dangerous.” 

Harry said nothing. Hermione rambled on. 

“We have a reason why we’re doing this. You’re focused on the Veil, on getting stronger. To defeat Voldemort. And you’re just as focused as me on finding a way to bring them back. To bring Sirius back. My parents. Ron? He cares but-” 

“He just doesn’t know,” Harry finished. Hermione nodded slightly. 

“It’ll kill him to watch us do this. You know what everyone says about trying to bring back the dead. About dark magic. We weren’t made to play God,” Hermione said. 

“Yeah, we were made for God to play with,” Harry stood up and Hermione sighed at him. 

“How have your Apparition lessons been with Professor McGonagall?” Hermione asked, trying to stray away from a tense conversation. 

“Horrible. She treats me like a baby,” Harry huffed. 

“She’s treating everyone like a baby, Harry. We’re beginners.” 

“Yeah, well maybe if she didn’t treat us like babies then maybe I could actually learn,” Harry walked around the room, trying to burn off some energy. He curved around the tables and walked past the surrounding furniture and lights, getting used to the soft ache in his back. 

“It’s not fair. She’s my Head of House, she should be the one to teach me,” Hermione complained. Harry looked at her bewildered. 

“You do remember that she was the one that practically told you in your face what happened to your parents, right?” Harry asked, wondering if Hermione had started to go crazy. 

“It’s not her fault,” Hermione frowned. “I was pretending to be asleep. I had my eyes shut. I thought...I thought I was having a nightmare. I couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes in a world where my parents weren’t there.” 

Harry stood in front of a blue wall. “It’s only been a week since then, ‘Mione. She feels bad about it.” 

“Dumbledore was the one who started the conversation. All she did was ask if the article was true. You know, since it was the Daily Prophet and they’ve been...exaggerating lately. And biased,” The girl shrugged. 

“Oh really now? I had no idea. It’s not like they’ve been calling me a liar for months now and ignoring Voldemort’s return,” Harry smiled falsely and Hermione rolled her eyes at him. She watched him ruffle his jet black hair. She stopped and turned off the heat, smiling down at the potion; hope making her heart beat faster. 

“I think it’s done,” She stated. Suddenly, there was a jolting clap and she jumped. 

“Harry!” She exclaimed. Harry nudged his foot against the dead fly that was now on the floor. 

“What? It was annoying me,” Harry walked back to her. “And anyways. We need something to test out the potion, right?” 

Hermione hesitated and nodded. “Yes.” 

They stared at the dead fly. 

“You’re picking it up,” Hermione quickly spat out as she shivered from disgust. Harry bit his cheek to hold himself back from laughing at her grossed out tone and set the fly on the table. He watched Hermione’s shaking hands bring out a pipette from the drawer. She carefully put it into the potion and pulled out some of the product. She let a single drop fall onto the small bug’s dead body. Harry and her held their breath as the liquid seeped into the fly’s skin. 

One second. 

Two seconds. 

Three. 

Harry’s eyes widened when he saw the body begin to tremble and start to shake violently; he yanked Hermione down, covering her with his body. Suddenly, something warm splashed on Harry’s back and a foul odor began to haunt the air. Both of them gagged and looked around and noticed the room covered with yucky yellows and gooey greens. 

“Well, that wasn’t supposed to happen,” Harry covered his nose and Hermione did the same. They turned to look at the remains. The fly had grown in size rapidly before exploding. What was left was dangling over the table’s edge and was all over the walls. 

And…

“For fuck’s sake, this robe is new,” Harry hissed as he yanked the robe off and threw it onto the floor, furious and grossed out. He heard a soft sob and turned to look at Hermione. 

“I’m sorry,” Hermione began to chant under her breath as she fell against Harry’s chest and wrapped her sore arms around him. Harry hugged her tightly and patted down her hair. 

“Hey...hey, it’s okay,” Harry awkwardly comforted her to the best of his ability. “It’s not your fault. We’re doing what people think is impossible, ‘Mione. We’re kids...we’re kids, okay? We don’t know everything.” 

“But I should know everything!” Hermione whined and more tears stained Harry’s shirt. “I should, I need to.” They stayed together for a few minutes with Harry rubbing her back and letting his friend cry out her frustration. “Come on, Hermione. Let’s go back to the Common Room.” 

He set a hand on her back gently and guided her outside the Room of Requirement, leaving behind their failed attempt to regain what was taken away. Just as Harry was about to turn the corner, he froze when he heard running footsteps come towards them from around the corner. He quickly shoved himself and Hermione into the closest room, ignoring Hermione’s cry of “Hey!”, holding a finger to his mouth to tell her to stay quiet. Hermione grumbled but froze too when the footsteps got closer and closer, each sound booming louder and louder through the halls. Once the person passed them, Harry heard the sound of a door opening and closing. 

“Who was that?!” Hermione asked, worried. Harry frowned as he poked his head out with his wand at the ready. At seeing no one, he grabbed her hand and forced her to run with him. They didn’t stop until they got into the Common Room and Harry lunged at his trunk. The common room was filled with their sleeping housemates, but they awoke at Harry’s stuff crashing onto the ground. 

“Harry?” Ron muttered, drowsy. Harry’s heart was beating hard that he wouldn’t be surprised if the other boys could hear it. He shakily yanked out the Marauder's Map and opened it. 

Everything seemed fine. At first. 

Everyone was in their dorms. 

Except for one person. 

“Malfoy,” Harry hissed out, before grabbing his invisibility cloak. The boys all stood up alarmed except for Ron as they gasped at Harry’s cloak. 

“You have an invisibility cloak?!” Neville’s eyes were wide and his jaw was practically on the floor. Harry ignored Neville’s continued stuttering and looked at all the boys with a serious face and warned them. 

“Malfoy is onto something. Someone warn McGonagall, warn the Head Boy and Head Girl, and wake everyone up!” Harry glared. They stared at him shocked. When they didn’t move immediately, Harry snapped. 

“NOW!” He snarled and watched them all crawl out of their beds. Ron grabbed his wand and began to run with Harry down the stairs and to the Common Room. 

“Harry?! Who was it?!” Hermione asked, eyes wide and hands shaking as she watched Harry and Ron rush to her. She began to follow as Harry dashed past her and out of the Gryffindor’s safe haven. 

“It was Malfoy!” Harry hollered back as he began to scramble around corners and focused on not tripping or making the wrong turn. 

“Oi! Will either of you tell me why the hell we’re running as if our lives are depending on it?!” Ron gasped out as he stumbled around a corner but quickly found his footing again. 

“Malfoy was talking about killing someone when I attacked him! When I confronted him about why he needed the pudding, he avoided giving me the reason why. All he said was that it reminded him of his family! Which makes fucking sense!” Harry yelled back as he began to run faster. 

“That makes NO fucking sense!” Ron hollered back as Hermione and him struggled to keep up with Harry. 

“Think about it! He obviously doesn’t want to fucking kill whoever he’s talking about. He wouldn’t be so fucking distraught about it if he had a fucking choice! Snape cornered him at Slughorn’s party and all Draco said was that he needed everything to work out! Snape even confessed to making an Unbreakable Vow with Malfoy’s mother to keep him _safe_! Snape took Malfoy to his office, but why couldn’t he have brought Malfoy to Dumbledore instead?! It makes fucking SENSE!” Harry rambled. 

“STILL MAKES NO SENSE!” Ron snarled as he almost crashed into a wall. 

“Why did Snape make a Vow? Why couldn’t Malfoy talk to Dumbledore about everything? We had a suspicion that Malfoy was a Death Eater before the school year, so tell me the obvious answer, _who_ is forcing Malfoy to kill and who is Malfoy _trying_ to kill!” Harry nearly tumbled down the stairs but caught himself onto the rails. He heard Hermione and Ron stumbling slightly. 

“You’re not trying to say that..that,” Ron hesitated between gasps of air while Hermione huffed her frizzy hair out of her face. Suddenly, a green light passed right by them and they all scrambled out of the way. Harry whipped out his wand out of instinct and looked up at who cast it. 

His eyes widened as he dragged Ron and Hermione behind him. 

“STUPEFY!” He lashed out and watched one of the Death Eaters pass out and be blasted backwards, taking a few down with him. The Golden Trio began to run once more and Harry hid behind a wall while Ron and Hermione kept guard. His hands were trembling. From the cold corridors or from nervousness-- Harry didn’t know. He opened the map and looked for the Headmaster. 

He was at the astronomy tower. Alone. 

But not for long, Malfoy was on his way with other people Harry knew...and hated. 

“What the hell is he doing alone?!” Harry hissed before fisting the parchment back into his pockets. His feet started pounding the floor again as he took the quickest route to Dumbledore. “Go back! Go back and stay with McGonagall, stay safe!” He hollered at his friends. Hermione cast him a dirty look and Ron glared. 

“We’re not leaving you alone mate!” The redhead stubbornly defied Harry and the girl behind him stood next to him, determination in her eyes as well. Harry harshly stared at them, hands shaking. He needed them safe; he needed them far away from him. If they were near him, then the chance of a Death Eater killing them in order to get to him would increase immensely. They needed to leave and find a safe place. Now. 

“No,” Harry countered. 

“We’re not leaving you!” Hermione and Ron snapped at him. 

Harry wanted to fucking scream. Why couldn’t they understand that he couldn’t let them die? 

“Aw, if it isn’t our precious...precious baby Potter,” A soft voice spoke out, startling them. Harry turned to stare at Bellatrix, heart pounding. She was standing above them at the top of a staircase, wand in hand, and evil glint in her crazy eyes. Behind her stood shadows (Death Eaters?) and Draco Malfoy. How had they gotten there so quickly, they had been so fucking far-

“Shut up!” He blurted out, shocking even himself at how much hatred and bitterness was dripping from his voice. Everyone else also seemed shocked, staring at him for a while before Bellatrix let out an infuriating cackle. As her laughter echoed down towards him, Harry got flashbacks of that night. Cold corridors, just like these, but everything was so dark. Bright blue lights flashed before him, blinding him, and all he could hear once more was Bellatrix’ laughter and his own screaming. What was going on? Was this actually real? Or was he just remembering...Sirius’s final moments? His ears started ringing and he shut his eyes tight. Opening them, he found himself back in reality; staring at Bellatrix’ black hair bouncing with each cackle let out. He saw the figures behind her shaking as well...laughing with her. Malfoy stood silently beside everyone. 

_‘Shut up,’_ Harry chanted mentally. He was boiling, his fingertips began to heat up, and he slashed through the air, probably looking like a madman. _‘Shut up’_. “Shut up, SHUT UP!” 

Blood. Something hot sprayed onto him. The laughter stopped and Harry felt sick pleasure as they were replaced with screams. He swayed from euphoria as he watched Bellatrix fall to her knees, holding her face together with one hand, the other slashing her wand in the air. She was too busy screaming to cast out spells properly. Blood was dripping through the gaps between her stick like fingers. 

Everything exploded. 

Red, green, blue, yellow. There were colors everywhere around him and Harry waved his hand through the air, casting a blue shield around him, protecting himself and the two who were behind him, duelling as well. He pushed and pushed, stepping forward after each spell he cast. The Death Eaters stepped back as the Golden Trio ascended upon them, the young students were furious and accurate with their attacks and defenses. As they reached a floor, the Death Eaters settled there, trying to distract Harry from noticing Malfoy separate and sneak up the stairs. They failed. Harry managed to escape and run after Malfoy. 

“Petrificus Totalus!” Harry cast and watched Malfoy tense up and fall down onto the staircase. Harry rushed past him and went straight to Dumbledore. He swung open the door and found himself face to face with the old man once more. 

“Professor,” Harry began and Dumbledore stared at Harry, startled. 

“Harry? What are you doing? It’s past curfew-” 

“Malfoy let in Death Eaters through the Room. We’re under attack, we need to get you out of here! Now! Hurry up!” Harry urged, walking to Dumbledore. Dumbledore raised his wand cautiously and Harry quickly waved his hand, disarming Dumbledore. Harry froze and stared at the other who froze too. 

“I...I’m sorry. Instinct,” Harry mumbled as he reached to pick up Dumbledore’s wand from the floor. Just as Dumbledore went to pick it up quickly, Harry’s blood stained fingers wrapped around it and got it a little dirty with tacky blood. Bellatrix’s blood. Harry grimaced.

“My boy, may I ask where that blood is from? Are you hurt?” Dumbledore worried, watching him, before turning and staring up at the sky. Almost as if he were waiting for something. Someone? Harry watched him warily, squeezing the wand. 

“Had a little bit of trouble coming up here, nothing too...bad,” Harry assured, trying to shake off the guilt and the disappointment in himself from lying to the man he used to trust so much. 

“Aah, I see,” Dumbledore mused. “Will you do me a favor?” 

“Sir, we need to _leave_ -” 

“Will you wake up Severus for me, Harry?” Dumbledore continued, not caring about what Harry was saying. 

“NO!” Harry retorted. Dumbledore finally turned around but the moment those disappointed and sad eyes landed on him, Harry choked up. “I can’t let you die either!” Harry finished and watched many emotions flash through Dumbledore’s eyes before they settled on pity. 

“Harry...do this for me. All will make sense soon,” Dumbledore said. “Go.” 

Harry opened his mouth but Dumbledore continued. 

“Do not let yourself be blinded by what you perceive, what you think, my boy. The truth is sometimes not clear, but easier to understand once you find the missing pieces,” The headmaster uttered softly, still treating Harry well despite the tension increasing between them. Suddenly, there was a flash of green and Harry rushed to Dumbledore’s side to protect him but stared in shock at the gigantic dark mark floating in the sky. A hand yanked him back and Harry gripped the railings to stabilize himself. 

“You must go! Now!” Dumbledore demanded, grey hair wildly starting to float due to the wind. His furrowed eyebrows and frowning face was then covered with it, following a strong breeze that almost made Harry stumble. Harry rushed to another door, different from the one he came in. Just as he began walking down the stairs, trying not to fall from the sudden pain that radiated through his back (He really should’ve gone to go see Madam Pomfrey before running throughout the entire bloody castle), he heard another door slam the wall. He stopped and turned, looking through the cracks.

“EXPELLIARMUS!” Malfoy yelled. Harry saw Dumbledore stumble backwards slightly. Then, Malfoy chuckled. 

“Can’t believe this...I’ve finally caught you. Alone. Without a wand,” Malfoy mumbled, letting out some shaky sighs in between. “Pathetic.” 

Just as Harry reached out to yank open the door and blast Malfoy off the tower, he found himself frozen in place. The more he tried to move, the more desperate he became. He wanted to scream out at Malfoy, cuss him out. Watch the smirk leave his face and watch blood drip out from his mouth as Harry made Malfoy regret everything. He needed to get Dumbledore out of there, he needed-

“Draco, how are you?” Dumbledore smiled and Harry suddenly wanted to yank Dumbledore’s twinkling eyes out of their sockets. 

Why did he not care about Draco trying to _kill_ him? 

“Where’s Potter?” Malfoy sneered and Dumbledore sighed softly. 

“He left in order to get help,” Dumbledore confessed and Malfoy let out a soft laugh but for some reason, it sounded fake. 

“Well, it’ll be too late when he comes back. You...you’ll be dead.”

“You’re shaking, Draco.” 

“SHUT UP! I-” 

“You are not a killer, Draco,” Dumbledore’s comforting voice cut Malfoy off. 

“You don’t know anything!” Malfoy spat out, raising his wand. Harry struggled, trying his best to get to the Headmaster. Why wasn’t he moving? Why wasn’t he able to help, why…

His throat burned along with his eyes but no tears came out. He was dying to let out his anger. He could hear everything all at once. Dumbledore’s breathing, Draco’s heavy footsteps, the screams that were coming from the castle, from outside, from everywhere.

Harry couldn’t do anything. 

“You don’t even know Potter anymore,” Malfoy taunted. Dumbledore stayed silent for a second. 

“What are you talking about, Draco?” Dumbledore asked. Malfoy let out another laugh and Harry wanted to punch the ferret’s face into a bloody disaster. The flood creaked as Malfoy walked around, closer to Dumbledore. 

“You didn’t notice the blood on his hands? On his face, his clothes?” Malfoy wondered. “He lashed out on Aunt Bella, waved his hands around in the air like a lunatic...cut her face into pieces. Left her blind, screaming in pain. And...Potter had this twisted grin on his fucking face. All because she wouldn’t _shut up_.” 

Harry’s heart hammered when Dumbledore said nothing. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Dumbledore replied faintly, almost as if he didn’t believe the Slytherin. Or rather, didn’t want to. 

“I need to do this,” Malfoy continued, ignoring what Dumbledore had said. “I need to kill...kill you. Or else he’ll kill me. He’ll kill my family. Everyone.” 

Flashes of fond pictures of his own parents came to Harry’s mind. Lily Potter’s smile and James Potter’s goofy yet charming grin as they danced together, holding each other close. They were dead. And Malfoy would suffer the same fate if he didn’t obey; he would only have fond photos and chamomile pudding that would become bitter to him instead of comforting. 

But Harry couldn’t bring himself to care anymore. At least not now as he was forced to keep silent and watch Dumbledore’s demise unfold before him. Harry began to block out everything as he focused on trying to move, trying to twitch his fingers, trying to do something to help the old man who wasn’t taking this seriously. No one was taking this seriously. No one was fucking taking him seriously. After a few minutes of not being able to do anything, Harry looked up to find more people at the scene. 

A few familiar, a few unknown. It was difficult to pinpoint identities due to the limited view of the scene but Harry’s emerald eyes landed on the man pointing his wand at Dumbledore. 

“Severus...please.” 

Dumbledore was begging, voice softer than usual. 

_“Avada Kedavra!”_

Harry watched, stuck in place, mouth not allowed to open to scream out and save Dumbledore. Green took over his vision and Harry’s hand stayed frozen around Dumbledore’s red stained wand that seemed incredibly heavy in Harry’s cold hands. The wind picked up as the Death Eaters turned back and continued to create chaos. Harry did nothing. The green shone through the cracks of the wooden, worn out door that kept Harry away from everyone else. He had never hated green as much as he did now. The screams everywhere around him continued.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no


End file.
